


When The Bad Guys Win

by charlesdk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Bottom Derek, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Kate Argent Pain, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Minor Cora Hale/Lydia Martin, Minor Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Minor Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Multi, POV Stiles, Slow Build, Top Derek Hale, Top Stiles Stilinski, Versatile Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesdk/pseuds/charlesdk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't a race. Stiles knew it wasn't a race. He asked himself why he wanted it to be, why it felt like it, but he didn't know. Maybe it was because he knew Derek had beat him in picking the most valuable art piece – a small statue of some kind, Stiles could just barely see it clutched in Derek's hand – and he wasn't going to let him beat him in the time it took. Was it childish? Absolutely, but Stiles didn't care.</p><p>He also didn't care that picking up an ugly vase as he ran toward Derek and throwing it toward him was also very childish, because he did it anyway.</p><p>OR the Stilinski VS Hale criminal AU that slowly took over my life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Bad Guys Win

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Bad Guy" by 3OH!3. Story heavily inspired by the Fake AH Crew.
> 
> Credit to [Sasa](http://sa-satan.tumblr.com/) for coming up with the idea with me (although I did change the original idea quite a lot) and for helping me with some details.
> 
> Unbeta'd and English isn't my first language, I'm sorry for the mistakes.

People in Beacon Hills lived boring lives. Boring 9 to 5 jobs, got married to the first person they loved, had a couple kids, died of old age, nothing special. The town wasn't big, only had a couple of popular clubs where young people could get drunk, didn't have any special tourist attractions. Beacon Hills was a boring town where nothing really happened, save for a few grand theft autos and the occasional break in, but there was petty crime like that in every town, so it wasn't anything notable.

What became notable, however, was when the town got its very own group of criminals stirring up the town's peace and becoming the talk of every newspaper and the online forum of boring, old Beacon Hills. But even then, the town wasn't that great.

Malia Tate was busy cleaning her boots. Cleaning the blood off them from her night's activities. She sat on the edge of the bathtub, feet bare in the blood filled water, sweat forming on her forehead. She wouldn't have been in this situation, working a sweat like this, had it not been for her partner letting things go south too quick the night before, all thanks to his big mouth.

Speaking of her partner in crime...

“Malia!” Stiles burst into the room, a wide grin on his face and excitement in his eyes. “I have a plan.”

Stiles Stilinski and Malia Tate were troublemakers. Always had been, ever since they met in their second year of high school, and always would be. In high school, Stiles would constantly be send to detention. That may have been because the teachers hated him, but also because he lived for getting in trouble. Malia had gotten less detention than him. Not because she wasn't causing trouble because she was causing just as much trouble as Stiles, maybe even more, but she got caught less.

There had been an incident with an attempt to steal a police vehicle, that had gotten them both in handcuffs for the first time. You'd think that and the disappointed and furious looks from their parents would have been a wake up call and made them stop going down the road they were going.

But no, the plans just got a whole lot bigger after that. The risks were higher, sure, but they were both all in from the start. It only took one look between them while they sat handcuffed to the bench in the station for them to know that they were both on the same page.

Stiles' step brother, Scott, caught them in the middle of planning shortly before a teachers' conference though, and Malia thought that was the end of it. Not because Scott didn't already know about their illegal activities, but because Stiles and Scott had a special bond. They were practically brothers, before Scott's mom married Stiles' dad and they became actual brothers. And Malia knew Scott could easily guilt trip Stiles into stopping. Malia would not be able to do things without her partner in crime. Stiles had all the social skills, Malia had none and no one else. Not really.

She didn't have to worry though, because Scott said nothing and let them continue with whatever they were planning. By the time the conference rolled around, the stage caught on fire and they managed to steal most of the attendants' wallets while they were rushing to put it out.

Scott went off to college and Stiles and Malia gathered a team to be part of their “outlaw group”, as Stiles had corrected Scott when he had called them criminals.

There was the beautiful Lydia Martin. Lydia had been in most of Stiles' classes and Stiles had been crushing hard on her for years. Not only was she beautiful, she was a genius as well. They only managed to get her involved because, while she would never willingly admit it, she liked correcting Stiles' “genius” plans and she liked feeling powerful. Along with Lydia came Allison Argent. Allison went where Lydia did, no questions asked. She was the muscle of the group, providing weapons for everyone. Big guns, small guns, knives, you name it. Stiles had been afraid to ask, and Malia didn't care as long as Allison kept providing the weapons.

Then there was Danny Mahealani, their wonderful hacker. Danny had a few things on his record. Mostly it was nothing to worry about, but Lydia had gotten him to hack into the police base and get everything erased anyway. And along with Danny came Jackson Whittemore. Stiles had absolutely hated Jackson in high school, still hated him. But Jackson had become a successful lawyer and, unfortunately, they needed one of those on the team.

Things went smoothly for the first few years. Stiles only managed to get caught a handful of times, but Jackson got him out every time and Danny got the record of his arrest deleted. Scott graduated college and got a job at the local hospital when he came back to Beacon Hills, bringing a Kira Yukimura along with him.

Kira was... well, it took a while for her to become part of the team. She didn't say anything to anyone about what they were doing, but she didn't participate. At least not at first. The first time Kira helped out with the field work and saved Malia from being shot, Malia completely fell for her. She would never admit it but Stiles could tell.

Their outlaw group quickly got a reputation in town. No one actually knew who they were – the police suspected but they had no evidence – and personally, Stiles loved it.

Because there he was at 25, rich despite being unemployed, and with a great team with him, along with a reputation he could and did feel smug about. Life was pretty good.

Malia raised a brow at him. “Really?And is it gonna work this time?”

Stiles pointed an accusing finger at her. “Hey, my plan worked last time.” When Malia held up her bloody boot and gave him a deadpan look, he continued with a shrug. “Sort of.”

“At least let Lydia help you with the planning this time. I'd rather not ruin my favorite boots again.”

“That's not my fault. You shouldn't have worn your boots to something like that in the first place.”

“But I look good in them, so yes I should.” Malia bend back down and continued cleaning her boots, scrubbing at them furiously in hopes that there wouldn't be any bloodstains left on them. She would like to wear them out in public again after all.

Stiles rolled his eyes, said nothing, and left Malia to her cleaning. He pulled out his phone as he practically jumped down the stairs and send Lydia a text, informing her that he needed her smart brain for help with a new plan.

Their hiding place wasn't anything fancy. Stiles had named it the Cave because “caves are cool, Lydia, don't question it.” The rest of the team still refused to call it that, except for Scott who thought it was awesome. The Cave was one of the abandoned buildings in the outskirts of Beacon Hills. It was practically falling apart which was perfect, because no one would bother looking for them in a place like this. The police, a deputy Parrish, had only searched the place once a few months ago because of an anonymous tip they had gotten, and they found nothing. Thanks to Jackson and his “heads up” text, so they had time to get everything hidden away before the police showed up.

Malia destroyed a police cruiser though. She didn't like the interruption. Luckily for all of them, the police only looked into it for a week, before they let it go and put the blame on high school kids looking for trouble and a kick of adrenaline.

The Cave had three floors and a basement. On the first floor was nothing except for a room with clothes they could use in case they needed to change after getting dirty on their previous job, and an empty room they didn't use. On the second floor was the bathrooms. One for cleaning, one for regular use, and one for everything else. The third floor was where Allison stored the weapons. Or most of them, that was. The basement was for planning, hacking, and everything else. Danny was there most of the time, keeping an eye out for new potential places to hit.

“Hey, Danny boy,” Stiles said as he skipped the last step down the stairs to the basement. Danny gave him a nod in greeting, too busy eating a burrito to say hi back. “Anything new from our friends in uniform?”

Danny quickly swallowed the bite of burrito and pushed his chair over to one of the many monitors he had set up. “A...” He brought up a new window. “417 that got caught around the high school, the gun empty. Oh, and a Mr. Queen called to let them know about the party he's having this Friday.” He turned to look at Stiles, who had come to stand right behind him, arms crossed and a hint of a grin on his lips. “I'm assuming you're planning to rob them?”

“You bet your good looking ass I am, Danny.” Stiles patted Danny's shoulder and pushed him aside, eyes glued to the monitor. “But Malia wants Lydia to have a say in the planning 'cause she's still mad at me for getting her boots ruined last night, so we're gonna have to wait for her to show up.”

Lydia arrived only ten minutes later, Allison in tow. “Do you never take a break from breaking the law? It is healthy to have a few days between doing crime, you know.”

Stiles snorted and stood up from where he had seated himself next to Danny, walking over to join Lydia by the Planning Table in the left corner. “You know me, Lyds. I'll take a break from the law when the police does.”

Lydia sighed, shaking her head lightly. “Of course. So, what's your big plan?”

“Okay, so,” Stiles spread out his arms, hands wide open and an excited smile on his lips. “The Queens are having a party on Friday. Now, knowing the Queens, the place will be full of rich, snobby people. Perfect place to steal all their wallets, right? Well, according to a source of mine-”

“You mean Danny.”

“Lydia, stop interrupting.” Stiles rolled his eyes, sighed and then nodded. “But yeah, I mean Danny. According to Danny, the Queens have a very expensive treasure locked away in their basement.” With a snap of his fingers and a grin on his lips, he pointed lame finger guns at Lydia. “We're gonna steal it.”

Stiles wasn't sure what kind of reaction he expected. Some kind of enthusiasm though, that would have been nice. He was not expecting – but probably should have, knowing his team – Lydia to just stand there with her arms crossed, Allison in nearly the exact same position, and Danny not paying them any bit of his attention, too busy listening in on police radios.

“And what kind of treasure is this exactly?” Lydia asked, cocking a brow at him.

Stiles shrugged. “No idea. But it's obviously something expensive and valuable, since the Queens have it locked up in their basement.”

Lydia chewed on the idea for a while, then sighed. “Fine, it's worth checking out. And even if the treasure is crap, we can at least get the rich peoples' money.” She turned around and headed back upstairs, Allison following right after. “Tell everyone to be down here in an hour and we'll start planning.”

Stiles waited until they were back upstairs before he turned to Danny, his voice lowered as he spoke – just in case. “Man, you'd think she was the one in charge, huh?”

Danny huffed at him, his eyes still glued to the monitor in front of him. “You'd be dead if she didn't help you out and you know it, Stilinski.”

Stiles made a face at him, tongue stuck out like he was 5 instead of 25.

**{ x }**

An hour later, the rest of the team (minus Jackson who was busy defending someone in court, and Scott who had a double shift at the hospital) stood around the table in the basement, blueprints of the Queen mansion rolled out over it.

“Okay,” Stiles said, smacking his hands together. “Here's the plan. Lydia, Malia and myself will go inside the Queen mansion, dressed fancy like we belong there, obviously. Lydia and I will stay on the ground, mingling with the rich snobs while Malia,” he pointed over at her, “will wander off, find the treasure, and get it out of there. Kira will be your get-away driver waiting outside. When Malia is out of there, Lydia will go rob the snobs' jackets in the jacket room. I'll go around and pick-pocket as many pockets as I can. When Kira has dropped Malia off somewhere close by, Lydia and I will thank Mr. and Mrs. Queen for the lovely party and leave the place.”

“There's a building northwest of the front door,” he continued and drew a circle on the map laid out next to the blueprints, then pointed at Allison. “Allison will be on the roof of that with a sniper rifle or night vision or whatever you need to see, keeping an eye on anyone coming in and out of the place. The Queens are very paranoid people, so they've got security cameras everywhere except for the bedrooms and bathrooms. Lucky us. Danny will be back here keeping an eye on everything inside the mansion and the backyard. And when Malia heads for the basement for the treasure and Lydia goes to the jacket room, I need you to mess up the footage so there's no proof of it.”

Danny nodded and Stiles continued. “When everyone's out of the place, Lydia, Kira and I will pick up Allison, Malia and the treasure. We'll meet back here and count the profit.”

No one said a thing. They all waited for Lydia to speak, being master planner #2 and needing to approve of everything. Because she was good at it, and they trusted her to know what was best. After a moment, she nodded. “Sounds good. If Scott isn't working at the hospital on Friday, he can be our second driver, so Kira won't have to come back. It will be suspicious if she leaves for a while and then comes back. Especially if we all arrive together.”

“Good point. And if Scott does have work that night, he can get someone to cover his shift.” Stiles nodded, satisfied with the plan. “Alright, we're gonna need a few things for this to work. We're gonna need some dresses for Malia and Lydia.” He didn't need to look over at Malia to know she was giving him that _look_. “Erh I mean, a dress for Lydia and a nice suit for Malia or whatever, you can pick something yourself. Also a nice suit for myself and some fancy driver clothes for Kira and Scott. Lydia,” he looked over at her, “will take care of the clothes.”

He looked over at Kira and Malia, who, to no one's surprise, stood awfully close together and looked comfortable like that. “Kira and Malia, we're gonna need either a limousine or a very expensive car. Preferably black so it doesn't stand out. We're also gonna need a second car for Scott. You two take care of that. Danny will take care of the invitations, make sure we're on the guest list and give us cool undercover names. He'll also take care of the fake IDs, 'cause he's good with those.”

He looked over at Allison. “Allison, we'll need some weapons. You're going to need a sniper rifle and night vision goggles, at least. Lydia, Malia and myself will need some small weapons. Knives, pocket guns, anything we can have on us without it being obvious. Kira and Scott will need guns in their cars, hidden well.”

“And what are you gonna do?” Malia asked, her arms crossed.

“I will take care of Scott's schedule, so he will have nothing on Friday. I'll also fill him in on the plan and help you guys if you need it.” Stiles looked around the room. “Sound good to everyone?”

Everyone nodded and Stiles smiled widely. “Awesome. Let's get started then.”

**{ x }**

Friday arrived quickly. Danny got William Freed, Sharon Jones and Hazel Graves on the guest list shortly after hacking into the Queens' system, Kira and Malia quickly got two black, expensive looking cars and Lydia took until Thursday night to find the clothes. Allison showed up Friday around noon with two duffel bags of weapons, one full of knives and various other smaller weapons, and another full of guns.

At around 4 PM, everyone showed up in the basement. Even Jackson came to help Danny with the security cameras. Apparently he wasn't needed in court that night. Just after 5 PM, everyone was ready to go, gearing up with weapons, and Danny started hacking into the Queens' security cameras.

Lydia was wearing a semi-short, white dress that showed off her legs, some high heels to go with. She had a knife strapped high up on her right thigh, impossible to detect, and a gun in her purse. Malia was wearing a black suit and had allowed Lydia to doll her up a bit. She had a gun strapped under her left arm and a knife on the side of her ankle. Stiles was wearing a dark blue suit with the same weapons and weapon placements as Malia. Scott and Kira were wearing similar black suits and sunglasses. Stiles had insisted on the sunglasses, despite Malia calling them stupid and unnecessary.

When Stiles saw Scott, he grinned widely and high fived him. “Dude, we look like something straight out of a James Bond movie. We should take a picture, we look really good.”

“Bad idea, Stiles,” Lydia commented without looking their way, too busy helping Allison pack up her sniper rifle and night vision goggles.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yes, I'm aware of that, thank you. I'm not a complete idiot.”

“Debatable,” Malia murmured from beside Kira who laughed quietly. Stiles caught the smile Malia got on her face after that.

“Alright,” Danny turned around in his desk chair to face the rest of the group. “The party starts in 30 minutes, so I suggest you start heading over there. It should take you about 36 minutes to reach the mansion but don't worry, being fashionably late is appropriate in these cases. Scott, you take Lydia and Stiles. Malia, you go with Kira. It won't be suspicious when just Malia leaves with Kira then.”

Stiles pointed at Danny, nodding in approval. “Good thinking, Mahealani.” He turned to the rest of the group. “Okay, put in your earpieces and let's go rob some rich people.”

Scott left with Lydia and Stiles first, Kira following with Malia and Allison shortly after. The former arrived first, since the latter had to drop off Allison before reaching the Queen mansion. Scott went to park the car among the rest of the many expensive cars that were already there, while Lydia and Stiles headed for the bodyguards at the front door. They introduced themselves as William Freed and Hazel Graves, the guard checked it over with the list and then they were let inside.

Lydia immediately spotted Mrs. Queen, put on her million bucks smile and headed over there. Stiles looked around the room for another moment, before he ventured into the mass of people. He glanced over toward the front door when Danny announced “ _Coyote arrived_ ” in his ear and saw Malia walk inside, looking slightly uncomfortable like she didn't want to be there but she hid it well. Or at least she was trying to hide it well.

Malia looked around for a moment, catching his eye, and they nodded quickly at each other, before Stiles turned to one of the rich snobs trying to get his attention, and he fell into conversation.

“ _Coyote, give it an hour or two before you head for the basement. Wait for the green light and mingle a little_ ,” Danny said in their earpieces. Malia subtly rolled her eyes but did as she was told to do.

An hour went by smoothly. And then another 30 minutes before Danny gave Malia the green light to head for the basement. Malia did so, and Stiles turned his attention to the floor, looking around at the guests and picking out a few he could pick-pocket once Malia was out of the Queen mansion with the treasure.

He spotted Lydia looking like she belonged among the wealthy women while still somehow looking like she could go to higher places than there. Stiles always admired her for that, not settling for things when she knew she could do better.

He looked around the crowd of people for another moment, champagne glass to his lips, when someone caught his attention. A man. Looking right back at him, watching him.

His hair was black, or maybe dark drown, Stiles couldn't really tell from where he stood. His skin was tan, stubble thick on a strong jaw, and body noticeably and incredibly built underneath the black suit that looked like, and probably was, tailor made for him. The man was absolutely gorgeous.

Gorgeous enough to distract Stiles from the mission for a full minute, before Malia's voice came through his earpiece, pissed off. “ _There's nothing here, Fox!_ ”

It took him a moment to register, a moment of confusion. Because Malia was yelling at him through his earpiece, Danny's voice coming through as well, and this gorgeous man was looking at him, smirking at him like he _knew_. “What?” he spoke lowly into his microphone stuck to his collar, raising his champagne glass to hide his moving lips. “What do you mean there's nothing there?”

There was a heavy and annoyed sigh from Malia, a near groan. “ _There's nothing here. The fucking basement is empty. And not just that! It looks like someone got the treasure –_ diamonds _, by the way – before us. Someone fucking got here before us!_ ”

Stiles took his eyes off the still smirking man and looked over at Lydia who was looking back at him, just as confused. She just shrugged at him, having just as little of an idea as any of the rest of them had. It took a second before it clicked, and Stiles looked back over at the man just in time to see that ridiculous smirk grow wider. The guy winked at him, turned around, and left Stiles to stand gaping after him.

That asshole.

**{ x }**

“What the fuck was that?” Malia exclaimed the moment she came down to the basement to join the rest of them, a nervous looking Kira and an annoyed Allison in tow.

Stiles groaned and shrugged as he ran a hand through his hair. “I have no fucking idea. Some assholes came before us, got the profit.” He threw the watch he had been holding onto the table where the rest of what they had managed to get was. He had managed to pick-pocket a few people, Lydia had managed to get a few wallets and was currently counting the money, so it wasn't all for nothing. Not a total waste of time, despite the rather small profit they made.

Malia sighed and turned to Danny. “Did the security cameras catch their faces at least?”

Danny just shook his head, eyes glued to the screen as he looked over the footage of the camera nearest the way to the basement. “No, nothing. The cameras didn't even get cut out before I cut them, it doesn't make any sense.”

Malia groaned and looked over at Allison. “Did you see anyone suspicious leave the party? Like someone with a bag that could carry those diamonds?”

Allison shook her head, still looking very annoyed as she took apart her sniper rifle. “No, I didn't even see anyone leave the party before you guys.”

“Actually, I think I saw one of them.” The others turned to Stiles who just shrugged. “I mean, I'm like 90% sure he was part of it, 'cause the second Malia said there was nothing there, this guy smirked at me like he knew he had beat me or something.”

“What did he look like?” Danny asked, pausing the footage and glancing over at Stiles. “I could try to look through the rest of the footage from the party and get a face.”

“And then show it to Braeden, see if she knows anything about him,” Lydia suggested, nodding.

Stiles leaned against the table, crossed his arms and shrugged, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting. “He had dark hair, maybe black. Thick stubble, tan skin, tailor made suit. Well, I'm guessing it was tailor made, 'cause it looked really good on him.” Lydia and Scott shared a look but said nothing. “And I mean, he was really hot.”

There was a beat of silence, before Malia spoke up. “So it could be any of the million rich snobs wearing a black suit and looking hot at the party. That was really helpful, thanks.”

Stiles groaned and rolled his eyes. “Fine, I'll just look through the footage with Danny and I can point him out. How's that?”

Malia smiled, the smile forced and like she would rather punch him. He didn't blame her. This was the second time in a row a heist had gone wrong after all. “Much better.” She turned and headed back up the stairs. “Text me when you find something. I need to get out of these clothes.”

Danny and Stiles spend until around midnight looking through the footage from the party, trying to put a face to this guy Stiles had seen. But there was nothing. There was only footage of the back of this guy's head, never his face. He was a pro, that was for sure. And there was no footage of anyone walking anywhere near the basement with the diamonds except for the Queens and a few guards.

When they told Lydia, she just sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. “Alright, contact Braeden. Maybe she'll know who this guy is just from Stiles' description of him.”

**{ x }**

It wasn't easy getting in contact with Braeden. She was usually on the other side of the country, working for someone else. A lot of people wanted to hire a mercenary and Braeden was the best in the business. The best and she knew it. She was also willing to give information for a certain amount of money. Money that the Beacon Hills Outlaws would never have gotten had they not started this whole criminal thing.

After a few days of trying, Danny managed to get in contact with Braeden. She told him the amount of money she would need for the information and Danny passed it on to Stiles.

Stiles, Malia, Allison and Kira hit a bank just outside of Beacon Hills to get that money, and then all they could do was wait for Braeden to come into town.

6 days had passed since the Queen Heist Failure when Braeden walked into the Cave and made herself comfortable in the basement, counting the money Malia had handed to her. When she had counted it, she looked over at them and nodded. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

Malia glanced over at the others for a second, her arms crossed, before she looked over at Braeden. “The Queens had a party Friday night, and their diamonds were stolen.”

“Yes, I heard about that. That was you guys?”

Lydia shook her head. “Unfortunately not. It would have been if we had gotten there earlier. Someone got there before us, and we were hoping you would know who it was.”

Braeden raised a brow and huffed. “Do you think I keep tabs on every single robbery in the country and who does them?”

“No,” Stiles said. “But if I gave you a description of a suspect, would you be able to track him down?”

“Maybe. It would be easier than going on nothing, yes.”

Stiles gave her an unimpressed look. “Obviously. Okay, the guy was probably in his late 20's, maybe early 30's. He had dark hair, stubble or maybe a beard, I don't know. He honestly looked like a model-” He paused to look over at where Lydia and Scott gave him a look, so he cleared his throat and continued. “Right, uh. He had like really impressive eyebrows and-”

“Wait.” Braeden held up a hand and stood up from where she had been sitting. “I know who you're talking about and I can't help you.”

“But we paid you?” Kira said from the side before any of the others could, the others too busy gaping at Braeden and Malia seconds from exploding.

Braeden grabbed the bag of money and shrugged. “That guy and his team are paying me a lot more than you guys.” She took exactly two steps forward, before Allison was in front of her, a hand threateningly resting on the gun in her belt and eyes locked with the mercenary's. Braeden gave her a look, then sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I'll give you a name but that's all I can give you. And if they hear that I was involved with any of this, consider yourselves cut off from my service. I don't care how much you pay me.”

Stiles shared a look with Lydia, then nodded at Braeden. “Deal. What's the name?”

“Hale.”

**{ x }**

Two days after they had gotten that name, and they had found nothing. Nothing but a few articles online that told them even more _nothing_.

“ _Hale House Burned Down, Leaves Only 3 Survivors_ ”

“ _Police Investigates The Hale Tragedy_ ”

“ _Kate A. Put Behind Bars, Confesses To The Murder Of The Hale Family_ ”

“ _Cora, Laura And Derek Hale Disappear 3 Weeks After The Hale Tragedy_ ”

“ _The Hale Survivors Officially Missing_ ”

The last article had been posted 10 years ago. The only “Hale”s anywhere on the internet were Cora, Laura and Derek Hale. There was nothing about any of them anywhere. No Facebook, no news article, nothing.

“What about police records?” Malia suggested, looking over at where Jackson was sitting next to Danny. “If this whole family tragedy thing was so big in a town this small, there's gotta be a case file somewhere.”

Danny shook his head. “Nothing in their online data base.”

“And just one case file on paper,” Jackson said, shrugging. “It doesn't say much that isn't already on the internet. Nothing useful.”

Stiles sighed heavily and ran both hands through his hair as he threw himself back on the couch they had dragged down there the day before. Lydia hummed and turned to Jackson. “Can you get your hands on that file?”

Jackson thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah.” He stood up and grabbed his things. “Give me an hour.”

He returned two hours later, welcomed by an impatient Lydia who didn't hesitate to grab the file and start looking through it. “Uh, you're welcome.” Jackson rolled his eyes and headed over to Danny.

Lydia spend a good 3 minutes looking through the file, before she smiled widely. “Aha! I knew it.” She scooted over to Stiles and pointed at a line. “The Hale survivors had a lawyer. Joseph Williams, Californian lawyer.”

Stiles looked over the page quickly and nodded. “Alright.” He turned and looked at Malia. “We better pay Mr. Williams a visit.”

**{ x }**

It had been a long day at the office. Lots of cases, lots of difficult clients. Joseph really needed a drink or two and enjoy the silence while he was away from the wife and kids. He parked his car outside his temporary house and headed inside. He flipped the light switch as he closed the front door, but nothing happened.

No lights turned on and the house remained completely dark.

He looked around for a moment, his heartbeat picking up as he slowly reached into his pocket for his phone. He didn't get to dial 911 though, because then the barrel of a gun pressed against the side of his head.

“If I were you,” a male voice coming from another direction said, “I'd give her the phone. She hasn't had the best week, and I know she would love to blow your brains out.”

Joseph swallowed thickly and handed the person (female, apparently) next to him his phone, trembling with fear. He let out a slow breath and looked over at the male figure standing in the doorway to the living room. “What do you want?”

“Information,” the man said, taking a step forward but never stepping out into the sliver of light coming through the window to his left. “That would be a good start.” He let his arm hang, become visible along with the gun he was armed with.

Joseph eyed the gun shortly, before he looked back at the stranger, trying to make out a face and not worry about the gun pressed to the side of his head, the woman next to him apparently ready to shoot him if he pissed her off. “What information?”

“11 years ago you worked on a case here in little, old Beacon Hills. The Hale murder case, remember that?” Joseph nodded, twitching when the woman shifted to his right. “You were the Hale survivors' lawyer, and I would like to know more about them.”

“I-I'm sorry. I can't give you that information.” The gun pressed more firmly to his head and Joseph shook, sweat forming on his forehead. “Please! Don't hurt me, I have a family.”

The woman scoffed next to him, and the man shook his head and sighed. “I'm surprised you're playing that card, Joseph. You see, I had someone look into you before coming over here. I know about your girl on the side. And Joseph, I really cannot stand cheaters. Your wife and kids deserve better than you.” The man stepped closer, cleverly avoiding the moonlight. “I don't care about you, neither does Coyote standing next to you. The only reason you're still here is because you have information on the Hales that I really want.” He brought up a phone, Joseph felt an angry gaze on him. “And I can ruin your life with one little email to your wonderful wife.”

“Wait!” Joseph held up his hands, swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. “If I talk, will you leave me and my family alone?”

“Of course.” The man put the phone back into his pocket, then spread out his arms. “The floor is yours, Mr. Williams.”

Joseph glanced at the woman to his right, then back at the silhouetted man. “After Kate had been put behind bars, the Hales went to New York. Shortly after that they disappeared. No one heard anything from them, they weren't at their apartment. Police thought they had been kidnapped but had no evidence of it, so a case wasn't opened. Just three missing person reports.”

He inhaled sharply when the barrel of the gun shifted against his head. “They were never found, but a few years after that, Laura Hale contacted me.” He trembled and shut his eyes. “She and her brother made me delete everything I had on them, every record.”

“What do you mean by everything you had on them?” the woman to his right said, sounding impatient.

Joseph let out a breath. “About a year and a half after the Hales had disappeared, I was contacted by the NYPD. They had arrested a Cora Hale for petty theft, and she had requested her lawyer. Me. I went to New York, cleared it up with them and thought that was it. I stayed in New York for another week, and a bank got robbed. Couple hours later, Derek Hale showed up at my hotel room, gave me a bag of money and told me to never speak about them again. To anyone. Obviously, I knew the money was from the bank, but I took it anyway.”

The two strangers were silent for a moment, then the man spoke. “And what happened after that?”

Joseph swallowed thickly again, his eyes focused on the ground because he knew. He knew that if the Hales ever found out he had talked, he was dead. “New York got themselves a new criminal group. Heists, grand theft auto, kidnappings, you name it. Five years ago I was called in for questioning. The Hales had screwed up somehow and they became suspects. Laura and Derek were still officially missing, so they weren't sure. And I had promised not to say anything, so I kept quiet.”

He paused for a moment, his throat suddenly dry. “A few months ago, Laura and Derek showed up at my house. They were back in California and needed me to keep quiet, so they paid me again. I haven't heard from them since, I swear.”

The male stranger sighed and made a movement with his armed hand. A second later the woman lowered the gun from Joseph's head, and Joseph let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for cooperating, Joseph. I trust you won't say a word to anyone about this, otherwise you'll get a bullet in your head.”

“I promise,” Joseph said quickly, nodded rapidly. “My mouth is sealed shut, I promise.”

With the light from the moon slightly hitting the stranger's face, he could tell the man was smiling tightly. But he couldn't make out any features. “It better be.”

And then they were gone and Joseph was left alone in his dark house.

When they got in the car, Malia sighed and leaned heavily against the seat. “So we're up against professional criminals, huh? Awesome.”

Stiles shrugged, typing away on his phone. “I don't know, this might be fun.” He grinned and glanced over at her, as he locked the phone. “Some actual competition.”

Malia huffed and shook her head. “Anyway, did you send that email?”

Stiles snorted. “Of course.” He started the car and drove down the street. “That guy's a cheating asshole. His wife deserves to know the truth.”

**{ x }**

The sun would be rising in a few hours when they reached the apartment they called home. Or maybe less home and more a place to sleep. There weren't many personal things, nothing to really make it a home. Those things belonged to their childhood homes, places where they didn't visit. At least not often.

It wasn't like they didn't get along with their parents. They got along just fine. Most of the time. Malia was adopted, her adoptive mother killed when she was just 8 years old, and her father didn't question anything she did. Mostly because he didn't know and thought she was a successful law student, proud of his daughter for having turned her poor grades around and done something good. She was lying to her father and she felt bad about it, sure, but it was necessary.

Stiles' mother had passed away when he was 10, and his father remarried 7 years later. He married Melissa McCall and made Scott a part of the family as well. Stiles' father used to be the sheriff but he had to get off the force because of health problems. Lucky for him, Melissa was a nurse and was there to take care of him. He knew Stiles was up to _something_ but he didn't know exactly what, so he didn't say anything. Melissa knew what it was – Scott had never been good at keeping secrets from the people he loved – and she, bless her, said nothing. She didn't approve of it, but before Scott followed her footsteps and became a nurse as well, she had patched up Stiles and the rest of the team a good amount of times. Never without a very long lecture though.

Their parents weren't a big part of their lives, and Malia was okay with that. Stiles was less okay with it, but he didn't have much of a choice but to say that he was.

Stiles yawned as he closed the front door behind him. “Can we take the day off? I could really use some sleep. Like 16 hours of sleep.”

Malia shrugged, turning to the kitchen part of the apartment rather than going to her bedroom, unlike Stiles who was already heading for his. “Sure, take the day off. Let's not worry about the Hales coming unannounced and unwelcome on our territory or anything.”

Stiles stopped, thought about it, then sighed as he turned around to face Malia pouring herself a glass of milk. “How 'bout just 5 hours of sleep then? I can't go on nothing here, Malia. My brain needs sleep, otherwise it doesn't work.”

Malia nodded, taking a quick sip. “Which is why I told you to go sleep.”

Stiles stared at her for a moment, then shook his head and threw his hands up. “Don't do anything stupid while I'm sleeping.”

“How could I? You're taking all the stupid with you.”

“Don't quote Captain America at me!” he called out just before he closed the door to his bedroom.

**{ x }**

Stiles spend the following three days trying to find more information on the Hales. He found nothing because the Hales had been thorough and had gotten rid of any evidence that they even still existed. He didn't know whether to be impressed or pissed off. Impressed because they were good, pissed off because they were too good. And he didn't like some other group of outlaws- okay, _criminals_ invading their territory.

Especially not since they apparently were better than them. At least with the Queen Diamond Heist.

Allison sighed as she walked down the stairs to the basement, a takeout coffee cup in each of her hands. “Stiles, let it go. You've been at it for days now, and you know you're not going to find more on them.”

Stiles groaned and scratched furiously at his scalp, messing his hair up, before he looked back at the computer screen with several windows open along with the security footage from the Queen Party playing on repeat. “But there's gotta be something. They're not ghosts. How the hell did they get to the diamonds before us? I just don't get it.”

Allison walked over and placed one of the coffee cups in front of Stiles, then sat down on the chair next to him. “I have no idea, but I know we're not going to find anything down here.” She took a sip, leaned back on the chair and put her feet up on the table. “We need to get back out there. Can't let them think they scared us away that easy.”

Stiles nodded, ignoring the coffee. “You're right.” He closed down the security footage and the windows, then turned to Allison with a grin on his lips. “How 'bout we hit a bank? The National is getting a new shipment of cash in tomorrow night.”

Allison thought about it, considered it for a moment. She then shrugged and leaned heavily back on the chair. “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

Robbing a bank was something they were good at, something they did often, and something they found easy. They had very quickly figured out the best way to rob banks. It was easy and they got to treat themselves for a while after that, take a few days off and spend the money they had scored. Carefully, of course. A shipment of cash, however? A piece of cake.

“Okay, here's the route the truck will take,” Danny said, swiping his finger on the screen of his tablet, and a map in a window popped up on the large screen at the end of the room. It was a few hours before the shipment was made, and the whole team was in the basement. Minus Jackson who had work to do.

Stiles grabbed the tablet from Danny and drew a circle about halfway through the route line, only slightly missing the old pen and paper planning but liking the technology. “We'll intersect them around here. They're supposed to update the bank when they start, halfway through, and when they get there. Obviously, there won't be a third update this time.”

He handed the tablet back to Danny, stepped forward, and turned to face the team. “We're gonna need masks, but no ridiculous theme this time, thanks.” During their last bank robbing, Malia had gotten them brightly colored masks, making them stand out and more memorable. Fortunately, that hadn't been a huge problem, but he'd rather not take the chance again. “Big guns, smoke grenades, maybe regular grenades as well. You know, for safety reasons.”

Allison gave a quick nod and turned to head for the stairs. “On it.”

“Get some bulletproof vests too!” Lydia called after her, holding a hand out toward Danny for the tablet. “We'll need all hands on deck,” she said, pulling up the information on the shipment that Danny had managed to get from the police. “There are two heavily armed guards, so we will need to take care of the passenger first.” She paused a moment, thinking. “Allison will take care of him, Malia and Stiles will shoot the front tires, and Kira and myself will go in from behind. When the truck has stopped, Stiles, you make sure to shoot the driver, before he can get to a gun. We get the backdoor open, get the money in the car Scott will have ready in the alley here,” she drew a quick dot on the map, “and we'll leave before the cops get there.”

Stiles nodded, excitement rising in his chest. “Love it. Scotty, you can use the car from the failed Queen heist, but switch the plates out.”

Allison returned 87 minutes later, two duffel bags in her hands, one with the guns and another with various grenades and bulletproof vests. The rest of them geared up quickly, needing to be in position soon if they were to catch the armored car in time and get everything ready.

Night had fallen by the time they stepped out of the building and into the car, and the town was quiet, the people asleep. There wasn't much of a night life in a town like Beacon Hills. Not on a normal work day, and if you had to find night life, you would have to go to the open clubs located further in town. At least for the good and popular ones, like Jungle and Sinema.

The team got in position. Scott was parked in the alley, vest on tightly, a gun next to him, and his hands on the wheel, ready to go as soon as they needed him to. Malia and Stiles were in the middle of the street, far enough apart so that the truck wouldn't be able to swerve around either of them without hitting the other. They were both holding onto a huge gun, both to shoot out the tires but also to load onto the bulletproof glass and injure the guards enough so they wouldn't and couldn't shoot back. Lydia and Kira were to the side a bit further up on the road, tools to break into the truck in one hand and gun in the other, and Allison stood further back, sniper in hand. All six of them were wearing black masks, covering their faces and hiding their identities.

In their ears, Danny was giving them occasional updates on the truck coming their way.

They had only been standing there for a little while, prepared to see the truck turn the corner down the street and onto the road they were waiting on, when Danny suddenly appeared in their ears, his voice alarmed. “ _Guys, we have a problem_.”

Stiles quickly scanned the area around them, assuming someone was approaching them, but there were no signs of anyone around them. “What's the problem, DM?”

“ _The truck just stopped_.”

Stiles looked over at Lydia, could tell she was confused despite the distance between them and despite the masks covering their faces. “What do you mean it stopped?”

“ _There appears to be... five people around it_.” Danny paused, and Stiles could feel himself get angry, gripping onto his gun tightly. “ _They're stealing the money, Fox_.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Stiles yelled loudly, the sound echoing down the street to Scott. He groaned loudly and swung his arms around, his gun along with them. He was throwing a fit, acting like a child. Malia rolled her eyes at him, and Kira rushed over to him, while Lydia walked down the alley to their get away vehicle, mask thrown against the side of one of the buildings.

“Stiles, you'll wake the whole town, if you keep yelling like that,” Kira hurried to say, not stepping too close to Stiles and his flailing arms.

Stiles who was busy walking back and forth on the street, grumbling curse words to himself. He stopped after a moment, only to turn to the end of the street, pissed. “You've declared war, Hale!” he announced loudly, then began running down the street, ignoring how Kira reached out for him to grab his arm but didn't get a good enough hold to actually stop him.

Stiles didn't make it that close to the robbed truck though, because as soon as he turned the corner where it had been stopped, he saw two cruisers parked, sirens flashing and deputies examining the scene. He quickly hid between two buildings, close enough to hear what was going on but not close enough to be spotted. He listened to deputy Parrish, a deputy they had encountered more than once in their years of criminal activities, call it in and pronouncing the two guards' unconscious states, requesting an ambulance.

He quietly ran away after that, down another street to where Scott and the others would be waiting for him, while he cursed Hale under his breath. This definitely meant war.

Admittedly, Stiles may have lost it a little. He went on a rampage and may have not only graffitied “GET OUT” in capital letters with red graffiti on a building, but he may have also blown it up a little. It may have made it to the front page of the news paper (“ _Feud In The Criminal World_?”) the following day.

These things may have happened, but it had helped Stiles calm down a bit after that. Especially since they hadn't been interrupted by the fucking Hales, when they had done their following job. Or the job after that, and Stiles went as far as to assume his message had worked, had bragged about it even.

Obviously, he was wrong. So very wrong.

**{ x }**

A full month passed by (Stiles kept count) without a single sound from the Hales, and the others started to agree with Stiles, agree that his message had actually worked. Malia had scoffed and called the Hales cowards two weeks into the month.

They were riding high on confidence, so high that they dared to go back to planning a big heist, even though their last one failed miserably, and none of them wanted to bring it up in conversation ever again. The others didn't know, but Stiles and Scott occasionally stayed up late at night, trying to figure out how in the hell the Hales managed to slip by the security cameras, steal the diamonds, and get out of there without being caught for even a single second, no distortion on the footage at all. They had yet to come up with anything but the theory that the Hales were actually super villains.

“The Pendragons are having a party on Saturday,” Kira said, handing over her tablet to Lydia. “If we want something valuable, I know they have jewelry that has been in their family for centuries. We could get a lot for those.”

Danny froze quietly, and Stiles nodded, wagging a finger at Kira. “Excellent idea. The Pendragons do have a lot more security than the Queens did though, so it might be a bit difficult.”

Lydia hummed, scrolling down on the tablet and skimming through the article on the Pendragon party. “And here I thought you liked a challenge, Stiles.”

“Oh, I definitely like a challenge.” Stiles walked over next to Lydia, looking over her shoulder at the tablet screen. “I'm just saying, we might need to be extra careful this time.”

“And extra observant, so we don't get screwed over again,” Malia commented by the side, not looking up from where she was cleaning one of the guns Allison had brought them for a bank robbery the day before.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “The Hales are already gone, ran with their tails between their legs like the cowards they are. We won the war.”

“It's not really a war if the other team gives up after one threat,” Scott said, and Stiles gave him a look, his eyes narrowed, to which Scott just smiled.

“Anyway,” Stiles moved on, “I'm sure they have security cameras too, at least near wherever they're keeping these jewelries – a safe, I'm guessing – so Danny, if you could hack into those way before the actual party and make sure no assholes steal anything before us, that would be awesome.”

Danny stayed silent for several seconds, before he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Can I get out of this one?”

That certainly got everyone's attention, including Malia's slightly angry “what?” as she looked up from the gun in her hands. Danny swirled around in his chair, his gaze on the floor. “I just don't want to steal from Beacon Hills' first _and only_ famous same sex couple, especially not when they're a power couple and doing well for themselves.”

“Danny,” Stiles said, stepping closer to him. “The Pendragons are loaded. A little heist won't hurt them.”

“But we're stealing their family jewelry.” Danny finally snapped his eyes up, meeting Stiles'. “Can I just not do this one? Lydia can easily do my job.”

“I can do your job, yes,” Lydia jumped in, “but not as well as you, and you know that. Besides, I will need to be on the field on this one. I understand why you don't want to do this, I do. But like Stiles said, it won't hurt them. They will still be millionaires, even without their family jewelry, the jewelry they're keeping locked up anyway.”

“Would you feel better about it if we left the family crest?” Kira suggested.

Danny thought about it for a moment, looking around at his team. He then sighed and leaned heavily back on his chair. “Fine, I'll do it.” Stiles fist pumped the air. “But I'm using my share on charity then.”

Lydia nodded, walked over and placed a hand on Danny's shoulder. “You can do whatever you want with your share. I'm just glad to have you on board.”

Danny hacked his way into the Pendragons' security cameras. Luckily for them, most rich people liked to have them, which only made mapping out their houses so much easier. Danny located the jewelry quickly. The Pendragons had them on display like a fucking museum, and Stiles had laughed at it. The room was behind a heavily locked door, that Danny would have no problem hacking into. The security system would be more difficult though.

“But you can figure it out, right?” Allison asked, kicking her feet up on the table, and letting Lydia rest her arm on them.

Danny shrugged, eyes glued to the mountain of code flashing on the screens in front of him. “I don't know. I might need Lydia's help with this.” He glanced at Stiles, noticing the slight panic hinting in his eyes. “But she can be out in the field. She'll just have to be at the door and guide me through it. There's a security pad on the wall. I can't see what kind from the cameras, so she'll need to tell me.”

“And anyone else can't do that?” Malia asked, head tilted slightly.

“They probably could, but Lydia would know instantly and wouldn't waste time.” Well, no one could argue with that. “Besides, I'm gonna need her help from the inside anyway.”

When Scott's shift at the hospital ended, he came straight over to the Cave, blue scrubs still on and a tired look on his face. The moment he joined the rest of the crew in the basement, he threw himself onto a chair with a heavy sigh, his eyes drifting closed. “Please tell me we don't have any nightly activities tonight. I'm too tired for anything.”

“Don't worry, Scotty.” Stiles walked up behind Scott and placed his hands on his shoulders, rubbing firmly. “We don't have anything planned until Saturday.”

Scott sighed. “Great. That gives me all of Friday with no work, so I can rest.” He went quiet for a moment, then groaned. “No, that's not true. I've got a date.”

Stiles stopped rubbing his brother's shoulders, only to lightly slap the side of his face. “You have a date, and you didn't tell me? With who?”

Scott winced at the slap and sat up properly. “Relax, I'm probably going to cancel anyway. It's just some guy who's been coming around the hospital a lot. He asked me out, I said yes, no big deal.”

“No big deal, my ass.” Stiles scoffed. “I can't believe you wouldn't tell me, your own brother, about the guy you've been flirting with.”

“Because you've always complained about anyone else I was interested in.” When Stiles huffed, Scott continued. “You complained when Allison and I dated and I talked about her a lot. Or when I went on that one date with Kira. Or what about when I was crushing on that girl in one of my classes in college?”

Stiles fell silent, and Lydia snorted behind him. “To be fair, you wouldn't shut up about any of them.”

“Really?” Allison jumped in, a smile on her face as she looked at Scott. “That's sweet.” Scott smiled back at her, smiled in that way he used to back when they were in high school, and Scott saw her for the first time.

“Hey, no.” Stiles swatted at Scott's face. “Stop that.”

Scott blinked, confused. “What?”

“You don't get to do that.” Scott only looked even more confused, and Stiles pointed first at Scott, then at Allison and back. “Stop making heart eyes at each other. I'm not going back to high school with your lovey dovey crap, so stop.”

“I agree,” Malia jumped in. “Unless you can do it without the pining, keep it out of here.”

Stiles snorted and snorted loudly. “Like you're one to talk.” Malia's eyes widened, and she shot Kira a quick glance. Kira was too preoccupied with something else to even look up from her tablet, let alone hear anything going on.

“Anyway.” Stiles gave Malia a pointed look, then smacked his hands together, finally getting Kira to look up and over at them. “Let's get to planning. We've only got four days 'til the party, and everything needs to be perfect. We can't screw this one up.”

“Well, the Hales are gone,” Scott said, spinning his chair around to face the rest of the team, although he was still slouched down, and his entire face screamed exhaustion. “The only thing we need to worry about is the security.”

Stiles snapped a finger at Scott. “Right, and I doubt they have a scheduled security route yet and probably won't have one until right before the party, so we're just gonna have to keep an eye on them through the cameras. If necessary, we'll take a few of them down. Not too many or people will get suspicious.”

“We're gonna need at least three, preferably four, on the ground. I'm thinking Lydia, Kira, Malia and myself. Lydia will get the security system out with Danny's help, and then she can keep watch for anyone coming. If someone does come, distract them with your lovely charm.” Lydia smiled at him. “And your boobs.” She rolled her eyes, and Stiles winked. “Kira, Malia and myself with steal the jewelry, get as many as we can in bags we'll sneak in with us.”

“How are we going to get them back out without anyone seeing us?” Kira asked, her tablet still on and shining up on her face.

“There's a window just a bit down the hall,” Danny chimed in. “Get that open and Allison can be on the other side, get the bags and get out of there.”

Stiles nodded. “Good idea. And Allison will sneak over to Scott's car, put the bags in the back, and then the four of us on the ground will thank the Pendragons for the party and be out of there.”

“Do you think it's a good idea if we all arrive together?” Malia asked, crossing her arms.

Stiles hummed, thought about it for a moment, then looked to Lydia. Lydia who shrugged and said “We can arrive together, if we arrive either as relatives or couples. Couples would be more believable.”

Stiles nodded rapidly and wagged a finger at her. “Awesome idea!” He didn't need to look over at Malia to see that she was groaning and hanging her head low. “Lydia and I will pretend to be a couple, and Malia and Kira will be the other.”

Lydia smiled widely and turned to Malia, who had her head hung low, and Kira, who looked slightly flushed but with a hint of a smile on her lips. “I think it's a great idea.”

Kira looked excited, her eyes wide and the smile slowly growing bigger. However, when she looked over at Malia hiding her face in her hands, that excited look slowly disappeared, her shoulders dropping, and she looked over at Stiles and Lydia, both of whom were glaring daggers at Malia. “I don't know if that's a good idea,” she said slowly.

“No, it's a great idea,” Stiles said through his clenched teeth. “ _Someone_ is just being very rude about it.”

Malia finally lifted her head from her hands and looked between Lydia and Stiles, then glanced over at Kira and sighed, or more like groaned, as she rolled her eyes. “Fine, we'll pretend to be a couple.”

“More like practice to be a real couple,” Stiles whispered to Lydia, high fiving her. Malia heard that, Kira didn't. If she did, she didn't show it in any way.

The guest list to the Pendragon party was open to the public, so getting an invitation turned out to be really easy. Danny quickly got invitations for Alfred and Evelyn Barrington, along with invitations for Blair and Claudette Meyers. Malia had groaned at her name, but Stiles had refused to let her change it, proud of coming up with those names. Usually he just let Danny do that, but he wanted a say in it this time.

Friday rolled around, and Scott canceled his date. He spend the day with Stiles instead, relaxing and playing a few games of Halo and various other games Stiles had bought after their latest bank robbery. For a few hours there, it felt like they were back in high school, when things were easy and they got to hang out as often as they wanted, stay up until the crack of dawn, and then spend the entire school day complaining about how tired they were. Stiles would always fall asleep in the middle of class, and Scott would always power through and then end up passing out the second he came home.

They had gotten yelled at countless times because of those nights, and you'd think they had learned their lesson after the first time. But no, they had many more nights like those, and they regretted it the whole day after, but it made for great bonding times, and neither of them would do it differently if they had the chance.

Saturday rolled around quickly, and everything and everyone were ready. The party started in an hour, and they needed to leave any minute now. They were only waiting for Lydia and Kira to be done getting dressed. Stiles had quickly thrown on a simple, black suit, and he hadn't bothered with his hair, knowing Lydia would change anything he did with it anyway. Malia was wearing a dark gray dress that went to her knees and high heels. She had tried to protest but eventually gave up.

“Aren't we supposed to be leaving now?” Malia asked, stuffing the foldout bag for the jewelry into her handbag.

Stiles glanced at his wristwatch and shrugged, looking over at the stairs to the basement. “Sure, but we can be a bit late.”

“I don't think all rich people appreciate their guests being late,” Malia grumbled, grabbing a handgun and strapping it to the side of her right thigh, hiding it under her dress.

Stiles gave her a look with an added stuck out tongue, when the door opened to the basement, and Lydia and Kira came down the stairs. Lydia was beautiful as always with her strawberry blonde hair even curlier than usual, and a long, white dress that was loose from the waist down, making it that much easier to hide weapons along her legs. Kira was gorgeous. Her black hair hang loosely over her shoulders, one side pulled back behind her ear to show off her face, and she was wearing a long, black dress that was loose around the legs and open on the back.

Stiles looked at the two for only a second, before he turned to Malia. Malia who was gaping and staring at Kira. He snorted and nudged her, pushing her out of her trance. “Shut up,” she mumbled, while Stiles laughed at her.

They all got weapons hidden on their bodies, similar placements to what they had during the failed Queen heist, and they were out of there. They dropped Allison off at the corner just before they would get into view of the Pendragon mansion, and she hurried to get into position, while Danny helped as well as he could from what he could see of the outside from the security cameras in the house. The guards were in place, and people were filling in by the time Scott parked in front of the entrance to let the four of them out.

Stiles held his arm out for Lydia to take after she had stepped out of the car, Malia did the same with Kira. Stiles winked at Malia, and she made a face at him in return. Getting inside was easy, and spotting the party throwers was even easier, seeing as they were both standing in the doorway and welcoming the guests. Kira and Malia stuck together once they had greeted the Pendragons and had had a brief conversation with both of them, where as Stiles leaned over to give Lydia's cheek a kiss and whisper “keep an eye out for Hale” in her ear, before he parted from her and went further into the sea of people.

Stiles was aware he was the only one who knew what Derek Hale looked like, and Lydia told him that through his earpiece. He just did not want another one of their big heists to be interrupted by the Hales, or the Hales to have gotten there before them. There may have been radio silence from the enemy, but Stiles was still on high alert.

“DM, is the jewelry still there?” he asked his microphone, grabbing a glass of champagne once a waitress offered it to him.

Danny sighed in his ear. “ _Yes, Fox, the jewelry is still there. Just like it was a minute ago_.”

Stiles hummed softly as he took a swig of champagne and looked around the room of people. He saw Malia with her shoulders back and looking nearly proud of having Kira still holding her arm and standing close to her, while they talked to another couple of women. He saw Lydia being approached by two handsome fellows, and he couldn't help but snort. Those dudes did not have a chance, he almost felt bad for them for even thinking they should try.

They had been there for an hour, waiting for the right time to strike and get the jewelry, Danny giving them updates on the jewelry and guard route every so often. They had been there for an hour when Stiles spotted a familiar combination of black hair and stubble.

The man's shoulders squared as he turned around and faced Stiles, like he knew he was looking. And once he was turned around, Stiles was absolutely sure. That was definitely the man he had seen at the Queens'. That was definitely Derek Hale.

“Ariel,” Stiles said into his microphone, eyes locked onto Derek who now had a smirk hinting on his lips. “I've got eyes on Hale.”

Lydia looked away from the two guys obviously flirting with her and over to Stiles. She followed his eyes over to Derek, and she quickly excused herself and walked away from the guys. “Fox, do not approach,” she said in a rush, trying to get through the sea of people and stop Stiles before he could make contact. “We are not here for Hale.”

“Too late,” Stiles replied, already on his way over to Derek. He downed the glass of champagne in his hand and handed it to a passing waiter, eyes glued to Derek. Derek who looked as good and as handsome as he had the first time he had seen him, if not better. It made him angry, because this was the enemy. This was the man whose team had ruined not only one but two heists, and it made Stiles angry. This guy was not supposed to be attractive, it was unfair and Stiles hated it.

He stopped maybe a step or two away from him, now realizing they were about the same height and Derek's eyes were green, maybe hazel. “I know who you are,” he said, eyes narrowed.

The smirk that had hinted on Derek's lips – and eyes, Stiles noticed now that he was closer – grew wider. “I know who you are too.” His eyes fell from Stiles' face, scanning over his body, and Stiles tried not to feel anything from that look. “Took you long enough.”

Stiles scoffed and dramatically rolled his eyes. “Dude, I've known who are you for weeks now. Did you think that explosion was just for anyone thinking about getting in my way?” Talking about this with many people around probably wasn't the smartest idea, but Stiles couldn't help himself.

“No, I know that was for me. Or us, rather.” Derek looked around quickly, so Stiles did the same. No one was even looking in their direction. Except for Lydia a bit from them, quietly trying to get Stiles' attention not only through the earpiece. “I'm going to take a wild guess and say you don't know who the rest of my team are.”

“Well, your guess would be wrong.” Stiles stood silently for only a moment, before he shrugged. “Okay, I don't know your whole team, but I know about your sisters. Laura and Cora.”

The grin that had been on Derek's lips slowly returned along with a huff. “So you know half my team, and I know all of yours.”

Stiles nearly exclaimed loudly, but then he laughed and waggled a finger at Derek. “Good one, I nearly fell for that. There's no way you know all of my team, no fucking way.” An old lady with white pearls around her neck turned around and gave him a stern look, silently telling him “language, young man,” and Stiles quickly offered her an apologetic smile, before turning back to glare at Derek.

Derek still held that ridiculous grin that shouldn't be attractive on anyone but was on him. “I do know your whole team. And I have to say, I'm surprised you only use Scott as a driver.” Stiles clenched his jaw when his brother's name rolled off of Derek's tongue. “He could be a lot more useful on the field with everyone else.”

“Don't you dare use his name, asshole.” Stiles stepped closer, pointing a finger at Derek's ridiculously attractive face, and he completely ignored not only Lydia but Allison and Scott yelling in his ear, trying to pull him away from this mess that could only spiral into trouble. “Scott has a life outside of this, so being the driver is the best he can be. If you so much as mention him to anyone, I won't hesitate to report both your sisters to the police.”

Derek challenged him by leaning closer, his grin dropping from his lips and their eye contact becoming intense. “Go ahead. As far as the police knows, Laura is dead and Cora is still in New York.”

Before Stiles could make a retort to that, there was a strong and large hand on his back, followed by a soft laugh. “Is everything alright over here, gentlemen?” Mr. Pendragon asked, a smile on his lips and a look in his eyes that quietly challenged them to test his patience.

Derek put on a friendly, although forced, smile as he turned to their host and offered him a quick nod. “We're just disagreeing on a few things, Mr. Pendragon.”

Stiles nodded, quickly jumping in with a matching friendly but forced smile. “It's a lovely party though. I'm very happy to be here, even when I'm discussing politics with a _great_ gentleman.” He turned to Derek, his smile becoming more forced as it grew.

Mr. Pendragon gave the two a look, then patted their backs once and stepped back. “No fighting. I'd rather not have to throw anyone out.”

Both of them kept their attention on Pendragon, until he disappeared in the sea of people, and then Stiles turned back to Derek, slapping his (very firm) chest. “Look what you did, idiot. Now we've got the host's attention. That's gonna make everything so much easier.”

Derek seemed to hesitate for a moment, or maybe he took the time to think, Stiles didn't really know and he didn't particularly care. “We could work together,” he finally suggested, slowly stepping closer, drowning out the noise of the people around them further. “Pretend to sneak off to fool around.” His eyes were locked onto Stiles' lips as he spoke, and then they snapped up to his eyes.

Stiles felt his heart pounding in his chest. It was ridiculous. He hated this guy with a burning passion, and yet he would love to jump on him and maybe fool around a little or a lot. The hate sex would be amazing. Maybe Stiles had gone too long since he last had sex with someone, and Derek was ridiculously hot, no one could blame him for having the thoughts and urges he was having.

He quickly snapped himself out of those thoughts though, and he let out a high laugh, jabbing a finger at Derek's firm chest and pushing him back. “In your dreams, big guy,” he said, winked at him, and turned around to walk away, scoffing.

He quickly found Lydia among the crowd. She may be short, but her strawberry blonde hair was easy to spot in the mass of people. While heading over there, he said “DM, please tell me we can initiate the plan soon. The Hales are here, and they are not going to wait long,” to Danny in a hushed tone, his lips barely moving as he spoke.

He had just made eye contact with Lydia, when Danny's reply came through their earpieces. “ _Wait five minutes. There's a guard checking out the area_.”

Six minutes passed before Danny told them the area was clear. Stiles had been keeping an eye on Derek, making sure the prick wasn't making a move before them. Luckily, Derek had been standing close to a brown haired woman for the past three minutes, and Stiles wasn't jealous. He wasn't.

Stiles and Lydia locked eyes with Malia and Kira, giving them a quick nod to go ahead. Lydia shook herself, pulled her shoulders back and put on her best smile, as she went over to tap Mr. Pendragon on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” she said when he turned around, and Stiles came up behind her, a hand on her lower back. “Where's the bathroom?”

Mr. Pendragon gave Stiles a look. His husband had probably told him about the loud discussion he had had with Derek not long ago, so Stiles gave him a friendly smile and made it obvious that he was with Lydia, stepping closer to her. That seemed to work, because Mr. Pendragon gave the both of them a smile and pointed to the left, their right. “Down that hall, third door to the right. Don't make a mess.”

Stiles had to bite back a laugh, because the idea of him getting it on with Lydia was ridiculous. Sure, he had had a major crush on her all the way through high school, and sure they had kissed that one time at a party, but there were no feelings beyond platonic ones and admiration between them.

“Don't worry, Mr. Pendragon,” Lydia said, a smile still on her lips as she slipped an arm around Stiles, and she quickly glanced over to where Malia and Kira slipped out of view down the hall. “We'll clean anything messy up.”

Mr. Pendragon winked at the two, then turned to the rest of the party, and Lydia dragged Stiles toward the hallway Malia and Kira had disappeared down. Or more like Lydia grabbed Stiles' hand and Stiles followed her with no hesitation. Stiles quickly cast a glance over at where he had last seen Derek, spotting him quickly next to the same brown haired woman. And when he noticed that Derek was looking back at him, he grinned and stuck his tongue out, before he lost view of him once they made it onto the hallway.

They passed one guard as they made their way to the secured door, and Lydia was quick to lean into Stiles, and Stiles reaching up to touch her inappropriately. The guard only bothered to give them a quick glance, before he quickly looked away, and Stiles dropped his hand once the guard's back was toward them. Malia and Kira were hiding further down the hall, out of view from the cameras, and Stiles and Lydia stood still for a moment, while Danny worked on cutting off the footage.

“ _Cameras are out_ ,” Danny said in their ears, and Stiles put some distance between himself and Lydia, as they hurried down the hallway. Lydia threw a look behind them, making sure they weren't being followed, and the others came out of hiding.

Lydia was at the door immediately, and while she was busy helping Danny hack into the security system to deactivate it, Stiles, Malia and Kira stood watch for anyone coming their way. After about five minutes and no sign of anyone interrupting them, Malia was getting impatient. “Are we in yet?” she grumbled, throwing a look over at Lydia.

No one answered her, Lydia only waved a hand at her, but she never took her eyes off of what she was busy doing. Another minute passed before Lydia threw her arms up and the secured door popped open. “You're welcome,” she said with a smile, when she turned to face them while she pushed the door open all the way.

“Ariel, you are a beautiful genius,” Stiles said, kissing her cheek and hurrying into the room. Except he didn't make it more than one step into the room, before Kira announced their newly arrived company, and he turned back around.

He turned back around to see a grinning Derek, the brown haired woman from earlier, a guy with curly hair and impressive cheekbones, and an attractive blonde woman, all making their way toward them. “Thanks for doing the hard work, kiddos,” the blonde woman said, smiling at them.

Malia quickly stepped in front of her, hand already pulling out the handgun from under her dress and pointing it at her. “Like we're just gonna let you shitheads walk right in.” Kira came to stand next to her when Cheekbones tried to make his way passed them.

The brown haired woman sighed and walked over between Cheekbones and Blondie, putting a hand on each their shoulders. “Look,” she looked at the four of them, “we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Either you let us go in and take what we want, or there will be a fight and it won't be pretty.”

Malia scoffed, hand clenching around the gun. “We're not scared of you.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Malia and scoffed. “Sure you're not. Not with how hard you're holding that gun.”

Stiles watched the unfamiliar woman for only another moment, before it hit him. “Look,” he said, stepping forward. “You might think you're super awesome and superior here, just because you used to be New York's number one outlaws.” The woman seemed surprised at that. “Oh yeah, I know who you are. You're Laura Hale, and you're dead. Legally, of course, I have no reason to kill you. Not if you step out of the way, and let us get this one. After all, you owe us for what you did at the Queens'.”

Blondie snorted, but Laura was the one to speak. “We don't owe you a damn thing. We were and are just better than you. You were being slow, we took our chance.”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something back, lifting an accusing finger at the enemies in front of him, but he didn't get to say anything, because then Danny's voice sounded in his ear, serious and stern. “ _Guys, I know those are the Hales and the enemy or whatever, but you gotta hurry. The cameras have been out for too long, and the guards are getting suspicious. Won't take long before they'll be coming your way_.”

Stiles closed his mouth and put on a forced smile, looking between the Hales. He had to admit, they were intimidating. Not because they were particularly scary, but because they were all ridiculously attractive. If Stiles didn't know they were criminals, he would have guessed supermodels.

“Well, it's been fun,” he said, stepping back and clasping his hands together, “but we were here first and did all the work, so we're going to take what we came here for and leave. Bye, have a shit life.” He lifted a hand, then flipped it around to give the others, especially Derek, the finger, before he turned around and hurried inside the room, grabbing a hold on Lydia as he went inside. Malia and Kira could easily deal with those out there. He hoped.

Lydia only just managed to fold out two bags, one for each of them, before Cheekbones rushed inside. Stiles quickly stopped him, pushing him down as he reached for the gun against his side. Outside in the hallway, he heard Malia groan and punches being thrown. “Stay down!” he yelled loudly, pointing his gun at Cheekbones on the ground. “Ariel, hurry. Just grab as much as you can. DM, how's the guard situation?”

“ _Looks like four guards making their way through the crowd to you_ ,” Danny replied in his ear. “ _Four minutes out, tops_.”

Stiles cursed to himself, glanced over at where Lydia was breaking a glass case and stuffing expensive jewelry into one of the bags, and then he sighed and looked back at Cheekbones. “Coyote, Kitsune!” he yelled, listened to a loud groan from someone. “Ignore them! Get in here, grab as much as you can and let's go!”

There was a brief moment of silence, silence filled with more glass breaking behind him, before he heard rushing footsteps coming toward him. He first saw Malia and Kira hurrying to Lydia, Lydia already holding out the other bag for them, and then he saw the Hales come rushing in. Blondie only threw him and Cheekbones one glance, Laura did the same, but they were quickly over to grab jewelry.

Derek, however, came to a stop when he came inside, looked at Cheekbones on the floor and Stiles with his gun pointed at him, finger on the trigger, and he stepped closer. “I thought you had no reason to kill us.”

“And I'm not going to,” Stiles said, that forced smile back on his lips, the smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “This is just in case one of you decides to do something stupid.” He wiggled the gun lightly in his hands, playing with the trigger, and Cheekbones tensed even more. “I won't kill him, but I will put a bullet in him, so don't even think about getting in our way.”

Derek took a step closer, and Stiles aimed the gun at Cheekbones' chest and raised his brows, challenging him. Derek held his hands up and took a step back. “Alpha, hurry up,” he called out, eyes fixed on Stiles.

Stiles heard Laura scoff behind him. “ _Five guards at the end of the hallway, Fox_ ,” came Danny's voice in his ear. “ _Arrow's by the window. Get out of there_.”

Stiles made the mistake of glancing behind himself, giving his own team a look as they wrapped up, groaning at the Hales taking what they couldn't. He made that mistake, and then Derek grabbed the gun between his hands and pulled, pulled hard. Stiles lost his balance and stumbled forward, stumbled forward directly into Derek's firm shoulder, and Derek swung his shoulder toward him, making the impact that much worse.

The pain settled in his jaw, and Stiles groaned loudly, losing his grip around the gun and allowing Derek to take it from him. Cheekbones scrambled to his feet and followed Blondie out of the room. “Blue, we gotta go!” Blondie yelled the second she stepped out of the room.

Derek raised the gun and aimed at Stiles, Stiles who was clutching his probably soon to be bruised jaw and finding his balance again. “Alpha, get them out of here,” he said, finger coming to rest on the trigger.

Stiles watched as Laura looked over at Lydia, Malia and Kira grabbing another few handfuls of jewelry, watched as she grinned and hurried over to her brother, patting his shoulder. “Remember you've got three behind you,” she said and then left the room, following Cheekbones and Blondie.

Laura hadn't been out of the room for more than a second, before Malia ran forward and hit the side of Derek's head with the butt of her gun. Derek stumbled, giving Stiles opportunity to grab the knife by his ankle and step forward. He kicked the gun out of Derek's hand and pushed the knife against his throat in a few quick movements.

“You're not the only one who's fast,” he said once Derek seemed to catch up, swallowing carefully against the blade. “Wolf, get ready for pick up. Ariel, Kitsune, Coyote, Arrow. Make a run for it, and if I'm not right behind you in ten seconds, leave without me.”

He heard no reply from Allison. If he were to make a guess, he would guess she was trying to keep the other Hales from running away. She had been by the window, the only way to get away without going through the guards, after all. He did see the other three nod and walk passed them, and he did get a quick “ _you got it, Fox. Be careful,_ ” from Scott, followed by the sound of a car starting.

And then he was alone in the room with Derek. He knew the guards would be there any second now, and he knew he would either have to kill Derek or have to fight him until one of them stopped fighting back or end up in jail. He pressed the knife firmly to Derek's neck, and Derek inhaled sharply, but he didn't look scared. He just looked like he had accepted it.

“If you get in my way again,” Stiles said, his voice low to a near whisper, as he leaned closer, “I won't hesitate to put a bullet in you. Or maybe slit your throat, I haven't made up my mind.” He kept the knife pressed against Derek's neck for another moment, before he stepped back and spread his arms out, pointing the knife away.

Stiles heard a guard yell “Don't move!” from further down the hall, and he knew he only had one chance to get out of there without being caught. And that chance was now.

He winked at Derek, turned on his heel, and ran away. He passed the guards, saw the guns pointing at him, but he didn't stop. He didn't stop even as he jumped out of the window and fell a whole story down, until he landed on the ground. It was dark around him, and he could only just spot fighting figures in the distance. He guessed that was Allison, Malia and Kira holding back the Hales, while Lydia ran to Scott.

He set off to run toward them, help them out, but he was stopped only three steps forward by a large hand grabbing his arm. He half expected it to be one of the guards having been brave enough to jump out the window after him, but he wasn't surprised to see Derek glaring at him once he turned around.

Stiles groaned loudly and rolled his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me? Can I just never get rid of you?”

A dark smirk formed on Derek's lips, and Derek shook his head once. “No.” Stiles didn't have time to react in any way, before there was a sudden and strong fist smacking the side of his face. The pain was immediate, and there was a ringing for his ears, as his jaw went slack.

“Payback for the knife,” Derek told him, before he rushed over to the rest of his team. “See you around, Stilinski!”

Stiles cursed again, clutching onto his jaw, and he meant to shout something back, but he was interrupted by guards yelling somewhere from above him. “Fox, come on!” he heard Kira yell over the sound of a motor running. He ignored the pain that made the entire left side of his face throb, looked shortly over at the approaching guards, and then sprinted to the car waiting for him.

“Go, go, go!” Stiles yelled, as soon as he threw himself into the car, Malia closing the door immediately after. He groaned as he sat up, holding his jaw. “The fucker broke my jaw, what a dickhead,” he spit out, carefully padding at his throbbing jaw.

Scott threw a glance back at him from the front seat. “Hey, don't touch it. We'll take a look at it when we get back, but don't do anything 'cause you'll just make it worse.”

Stiles scoffed at him, offended. He said nothing though, knowing Scott was right, and he just sat back and let the others deal with the get away. He assumed the guards had called police back up by now, but there were no sirens wailing in the distance, nor could he hear guns being fired.

Scott backed out of the corner he had hid himself in, and he drove exactly two meters before he slammed the breaks. Stiles groaned and cursed at the sudden stop. “Why the hell did you stop?” he yelled, clutching his jaw and swatting away Kira's concerned and comforting hands.

“The Hales,” came Scott's distracted reply. When Stiles looked up, he saw Cheekbones staring into the car, staring back at Scott. It looked like he was silently apologizing, but the grin on his lips said otherwise. “What are you waiting for?” Stiles continued, grabbing Scott's seat. “Run him over!”

Scott swallowed, Cheekbones winked and then ran away, ran into the distance where the rest of the Hales had probably disappeared to not long before him. And once Cheekbones was out of view, Scott took in a deep breath and slammed his foot down, screeching out of there just as a couple of guards hopped into a car behind them.

They only got a bit down the street, before Stiles couldn't help but ask. “Slap me if I'm wrong, but I feel like you know him. Do you know Cheekbones, Scott?”

Scott looked almost embarrassed, eyes fixated on the road in front of him, and he shrugged. “It's possible,” he said in a murmuring tone. He glanced shortly at the others, their curious and slightly judging stares made him feel small, so he sighed and explained. “His name's Isaac. He's the guy from the hospital, the guy I was supposed to go on a date with last night.”

“What?” came Stiles' immediate and loud reaction, and he groaned at the pain coming from his jaw as he did. “Scott, you nearly went on a date with the fucking enemy! How could you do that?”

“I didn't know he was working with the Hales!” Scott yelled back.

Malia sighed at them, although it sounded more like a groan, and she rolled her eyes. “Can we discuss this later? We need to find a place and blow this thing up, since they saw us back there.”

Danny told them when to take a turn, just after passing a traffic camera, and they went into a secluded alley. They stepped out of the car, Allison and Malia grabbed both bags of jewelry, and Kira and Scott prepared to blow up the car, while Stiles tried not to complain too loudly about his jaw.

Once the car was destroyed and was set to explode in a few minutes, they headed in the direction of the Cave, tired and some wounded, but mostly they were just pissed off. Once again, they were interrupted by the Hales.

This definitely meant war, Stiles announced it very loudly.

**{ x }**

As it turned out, Stiles wasn't hurt that much. Scott could easily patch up everything, once Stiles stopped being a baby about it, and they ended up with a lot of jewelry that they could sell for a lot of money. Danny guessed they got around half of the jewelry, the Hales had gotten the rest.

Being injured and unable to help with anything else the team planned, Stiles decided to take a day off and go hang out with his dad. To be honest, it hadn't been his idea. If he had the choice, he wouldn't go see his dad unless the man was in the hospital and dying. Sure, they had a decent relationship if you looked at it from the outside. From the inside, it was tense and awkward. But his dad had called and asked if he could come over for a bit. Stiles had noticed the slight anger in his voice, but he had agreed nonetheless. When he told Lydia, she snorted, and when he told Scott, he wished him good luck.

Stiles' left side of his jaw was wrapped in a plaster. Scott had told him to stay in bed and let his jaw heal a little, before he decided to move around and go anywhere. But Stiles wasn't one to follow the rules, so he hadn't listened to his brother. He hopped behind the wheel of his crappy, old jeep and drove off to his childhood home.

A part of him hoped Melissa would be there, just to make it slightly less awkward, but according to Scott she was at the hospital, so that hope was quickly shot down. He did hope her shift would end soon though. His dad calling and wanting to see him always meant an ass kicking, something Stiles definitely did not need in his current state.

He noticed the cruiser parked in the driveway as he turned, but it wasn't until he parked his jeep, that it hit him. “Oh fuck,” he groaned to himself, nearly slamming the back of his head against his seat. So that was why his dad had called him. Because the police was there asking questions. And Stiles had a feeling which deputy had been put on the case this time.

He sighed heavily, annoyed, touched lightly at his bruised jaw, and then stepped out of his jeep and headed for the door. He only had to knock once, before the door opened and he was greeted with the angry, stern look his dad had always given him when he was in trouble. “Hey dad,” he greeted, put on a smile and tried not to make it look too forced. “What's with the cop car in the driveway? Thought you retired years ago.”

“I did,” his dad replied, his gaze dropping to his son's jaw. “What happened to your face?”

Stiles lifted his shoulder in a shrug and glanced inside his childhood home, spotting deputy Parrish hanging out in the background, arms crossed. “That's what happens when you're a clumsy idiot sometimes.” He nodded at Parrish and raised his hand. “'Sup, Parrish!”

His dad gave him another look with those narrow eyes full of judgment, before he stepped aside and let Stiles in. “I assume you know what this is about, Stiles,” he said once the door was closed.

Stiles stepped inside, winked at Parrish, and then turned to his father. “I'm gonna guess Parrish is accusing me of some crime again, and he somehow convinced you that I did it, even though I haven't done any criminal activity. Unless you count being a camper in Call Of Duty a criminal activity, which I probably would 'cause it's annoying but I'm still doing it.”

There was a silence in the entry hall, then Parrish stepped forward. “Why don't you come sit down, let me ask you a few questions?”

“Is this an interrogation?” Stiles let his gaze slip from his dad to Parrish, the smile gone from his features. “Because I know I've done nothing wrong, but it feels like you might think I did. It feels like you're gonna arrest me, so go ahead. If you're gonna arrest me, just do it.”

“Just answer a few damn questions, Stiles,” his dad muttered next to him.

Stiles stood still for a moment, waiting to see if Parrish was actually going to arrest him or not. He sighed when nothing happened, so he went into the living room and threw himself on the couch. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Where were you March 7th at 10:23 PM?” Parrish asked, sitting down on the wooden chair facing the couch. Stiles' dad decided not to get too close and stood in the entryway to the living room, almost like he was blocking the only way out if Stiles decided to make a run for it.

Stiles raised his shoulders in a quick shrug. “Where I always am that late at night: at home.”

“Were you alone?” Parrish had pulled out his notebook now, Stiles almost wanted to laugh.

“Nope, I was with my roommate Malia Tate, like I always am. Can I go now?”

“Just a few more questions.” Parrish leaned back on the chair, notebook open but eyes on Stiles, watching him carefully. “Are you familiar with the Pendragons?”

Stiles pretended to think about it, then half shrugged. “I don't know, my buddy Danny might have mentioned them once or twice. They're the gay power couple of Beacon Hills, right?”

Parrish nodded. “That's right. Are you aware of their valuables?”

Stiles' brows knitted together, and he snorted. “Nope. I know they're rich, power couples usually are apparently, but nah, I don't have any idea of what valuables you're talking about. Why?”

“Those valuables were stolen recently.”

Stiles let out a laugh, although he quickly stopped when he could feel the burning glare from his dad. “And you think I stole them? With my face looking like this, and my whole clumsy thing? That would be damn impressive if I could pull that off, but nope. Wasn't me. Good luck finding the bastards though.”

Parrish went quiet, and Stiles knew he had won this one. “Don't leave town,” he said, getting up. “And tell your roommate not to leave town either. We'll probably want her to confirm your alibi.”

Stiles saluted the deputy as he stood up. “Yes sir.” Parrish gave him a look, said his goodbye to the former Sheriff, and left the house. And once he was gone, Stiles felt like he could breathe again. Until he looked up and saw his dad giving him a very stern look, that made Stiles feel 5 again.

Stiles opened his mouth to start the conversation awkwardly, but he didn't get a chance to do so. “What the hell are you and Malia up to?” his dad said, his voice angry just like the rest of him. “I know she's not studying law, and I know you're not working in the IT department at some private firm, but that's what you two are telling everyone. I'm not buying it.”

“But it's the truth, dad!” Did he feel bad for lying? Not particularly. Should he? Probably. He should probably feel really bad about lying to his own family, but it was either that or get send to jail, because he knew his dad. He knew his dad would never protect Stiles if he did something as illegal as what he was actually doing, so he kept it quiet. It made him feel incredibly guilty, sure, but it was better this way. He told himself that as often as he could, even if he didn't always believe it.

“Stiles, stop lying to me.” His dad stepped forward, his arms uncrossing and he pointed angrily at him. “I'm your father, I know when you're lying to me.” Stiles wanted to snort at that, but he held it in. “Tell me the truth. Right now.” He paused, dropping his accusing finger. “Did you steal from the Pendragons?”

Stiles swallowed, considered just spilling everything right then and there. But then he sighed and shook his head. “Dad, I told Parrish the truth. I was with Malia the whole night.” He could see that his dad wasn't believing him. “Okay, would you feel better if I told you I was also with Scott for some of the night?”

That apparently only infuriated him even more. “Did you drag Scott into all of this?” Stiles didn't get a chance to protest, before his dad continued. “Because Scott is a good kid, and he shouldn't be dragged into the criminal life.”

Stiles felt his heart sink, even though none of this was news to him. He scoffed and dropped his gaze, shaking his head. “Right. I forgot Scott was your favorite son.” He took in a deep breath and looked back up, trying very hard to swallow down any hurt that may show on his face. “Don't worry, he'll be fine. He's got an actual job and everything.”

“I'll show myself out,” he mumbled as he walked past his dad, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Nice seeing you, dad!”

The second he got in his jeep, he drove off to the hospital. He knew Scott had a lot of work that day, but he needed his brother and damn it, he was going to get some time with him. Scott was very busy at the hospital, too busy to stop for more than a minute to give Stiles a very much needed hug, before he was rushing down the hall to one of his patients.

That was okay though, because Stiles got to hang out with some of the other nurses, while he waited for Scott to have a minute to himself. Scott seemed annoyed the first few times, but then eventually relaxed when Stiles got him to laugh. And Scott relaxed meant he started complaining about how tired he was.

Stiles stayed until Scott's shift ended, and then they went and got pizza. It was exactly what Stiles had needed, and it made him feel a bit better about being a disappointment to their father.

**{ x }**

Two weeks passed by and Stiles was finally able to take off the bandages without the bruises looking too bad. Stiles was happy. He was going out of his mind with boredom, and he needed to not sit around and stare into the wall anymore. His face was still sore, still kind of hurt when he laughed or when he was an idiot and poked at the bruises, so he wasn't up for going out much, wasn't up for being on the field just yet. He stayed in the basement and became a helping hand for Danny, even though Danny had everything under control, and Stiles ended up more in the way than helpful.

Another ten days passed, before Stiles felt like he was ready to get back out in the field. It felt good when they managed to stop an armored truck, get the money, and be out of there without being interrupted by the shitheads known as the Hales. Stiles may have shot the deliverers a few times, but none of them died, that was the important part. They just ended up being on desk duty for a few months, while they recovered from the bullet wounds, no big deal.

Scott thought it was a big deal though, because he had to deal with patching them up once they were rolled into the hospital, and Stiles got an annoyed Scott yelling at him later that night. Stiles had zero regrets. He needed that, and he felt so much better afterward.

Over the last near month Stiles had felt bored with the lack of excitement, only a few times having been able to get adrenaline pumping through his veins. He had been keeping an eye on the news of Beacon Hills, keeping an eye on their enemy group and keeping tabs on them. The Hales had been active, had been slowly making themselves a name in this small town, and had even made the headlines a few times. The newspapers and the official Twitter of Beacon Hills News called it “Rivalry Between Criminals” and updates in that segment online were regular. Stiles often found himself bored and decided to scroll through the theories and speculations in the comment sections. It was a good laugh.

Stiles had half of a sugar glazed donut in his mouth, had just been picking up a whole box of donuts for the crew, when he got the text.

 **Scott Lang** : We've got company at base. Hurry back!

Stiles made an annoyed sound around the donut, a sound that would probably have been a groan had the donut not been there, and he pocketed his phone and hurried to his jeep. Company at the base could not be a good thing. Had it been the police there for another check up, he would have gotten a text from Jackson telling him about it, or Scott would have told him to stay away.

So Stiles could only guess this meant big trouble – big trouble meaning the Hales.

Sure enough, when he pulled into the abandoned area they called base, there they were. Standing like they were in a standoff. There were no guns pulled, no knifes, no nothing, but the heat between the two groups was radiating. Stiles could feel it from the moment he parked his jeep and stepped out.

Derek and Laura were standing close to each other, their backs to where Stiles was approaching, and Blondie and Isaac turned to look his way. Next to Blondie stood a tall, muscular, dark skinned man, and Stiles slowed down just a little when he looked his way. It was completely unfair. Every single member of the Hale Shitheads looked like a runway model rolling in money and everyone sighing over them, everyone falling in love with them instantly. Or maybe that was just Stiles, but who could blame him? They looked good, despite being the biggest assholes on planet Earth.

Stiles stepped over next to Lydia and turned to the Hales. He waited a second, then spread his arms out. “Well, what do you want? You're not exactly welcome here, so make it quick or get shot.”

Laura shared a look with Derek, before she stepped forward, stopping the moment Malia reached for the gun strapped to her side. “I think we can all agree,” she started, her gaze shifting from Malia to Stiles, “that we've had our fun. But obviously having two groups of outlaws in the same small town isn't going to work.”

Stiles interrupted her with a loud snort followed by a scoff. “Are you seriously threatening us to get out of this town?” He crossed his arms, resting his weight on one leg. “Because in case you forgot, we were here first, asshats.”

“Technically,” Derek joined in behind his sister, “we were here first.”

“Yeah, I'm well aware that you two,” Stiles wagged a finger between Laura and Derek, “were born in Beacon Hills. That doesn't mean you fucking own the whole place. You did leave the town and moved to New York, so you may have ruled the place over there, but you have no right to rule anything over here. So either pack your bags and scramble home to New York, or this war will continue until one of us drop dead. Spoiler alert: it's gonna be you guys.”

Blondie huffed, and Stiles could see her head moving as she rolled her eyes. Laura jumped in before she could make what would definitely be a comment dripping with sarcasm, a comment that would probably lead to a lot of fighting. “Anyway, as I was saying,” Laura said, throwing Blondie a look, and Blondie seemed to pull back a little at that. “This town isn't big enough for both of us, especially not going against each other. So I propose a challenge to see who's the best of us. A competition, if you will. The winner gets to stay, the loser has to leave and never come back.”

“And what exactly does this challenge involve?” Lydia asked from beside Stiles. She looked annoyed, annoyed that they had been interrupted by unwelcome guests. Stiles didn't blame her.

Derek shrugged shortly, his shoulders bouncing once. “We can figure that out together. Figured it'd only be fair if you had a say in the challenge, or challenges, yourselves.”

“How kind of you,” Stiles said between clenched teeth. He didn't mean for them to actually hear it, but he had a feeling that Derek heard it anyway, if the grin on his lips had anything to say. Stiles thought about it for a moment, then he sighed and made a hand gesture. “Can we think about it before we make a decision?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Derek said, making a hand gesture in their direction.

Stiles waited for them to turn around and leave, had meant “talk about it for a long time, because this is a big decision to make,” but no. None of the Hales moved. “Oh, you mean right now?” Derek gave him a look, Stiles snorted. “Calm down, big guy, give us like five minutes.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he turned around and faced the rest of his team. “What a bunch of dickheads,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Okay, what do we think?” he asked, looking around at the others who were gathering in closer around him. It was only then that he noticed that Jackson wasn't there, probably caught up in court or busy with paperwork. Or too scared to come outside, either way he wasn't there. “Should we take them up on their dumb challenge, or just get Allison to snipe them on their way out?”

Allison looked at him, obviously not up for that. “I don't know about you guys, but I'm up for the challenge. You always say things are too easy anyway, Stiles, so why not?”

Stiles nodded, couldn't argue with that. The thought of a set of challenges made him excited. Maybe Beacon Hills would become fun again. Besides, he would love to kick the Hales' asses and wipe that dumb grin off of Derek's ridiculously attractive face. “I agree. Lydia,” he turned to Lydia, “what do you think? If you're in, so am I.”

Lydia shrugged shortly. “I'm in.” Stiles quietly fist pumped the air to himself, excitement flowing through him. “But you realize this means no big heists or bank robbing for a while, right?”

Stiles faltered a little at that, but he quickly waved it off. “When we beat their asses, we'll own this town. I see no downside to having a little fun while doing it. We've still got a ton of money from the Pendragon heist, so we don't really need to rob any banks for a while anyway.”

Lydia gave him a nod of her head, and Stiles looked around at everyone else. Everyone seemed to be on board, although Scott looked hesitant. Stiles noticed. “Scott, you're quiet. What's up?”

Scott pulled his shoulders up in a long shrug, glancing over at where the Hales were watching them carefully. “I don't know, Stiles. I mean, he bruised your jaw.”

“Only a little bit.”

“Doesn't matter, he hurt you. For all we know, all of this could be some elaborate plan to get all of us killed, and I'm not exactly up for that.” Scott hung his head a little, and Stiles stepped over to place a hand on his shoulder.

“Scott, you're my brother and I promised to protect you when you got involved with this.” Scott lifted his head to look at him. “You're not gonna be on the field for any of this, at least not more than just driving. And if you don't wanna drive, someone else will. Don't worry about it, we've got this.”

Scott looked at him, brows furrowed and eyes sad, worried. “But you guys will still be in danger.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Malia jumped in.

Stiles looked over his shoulder at her, silently telling her to be quiet. She rolled her eyes, and he looked back at Scott, patting his shoulder. “She's right though. We can take care of ourselves. We've been up against the cops for a long time now, we can do this.”

Scott thought it over for another moment, then he sighed and nodded. “Okay, I'm in.”

Stiles smiled widely and ruffled his brother's hair, before he pulled his shoulders back and turned to the Hales. Well, he turned to Derek, looking straight at him, and the rest of his team just happened to be in the same line of view. “We're in,” he announced, a grin forming on his lips.

Derek let a similar grin form on his lips, although it almost looked like a smile. Laura was the one to speak though, taking a step forward. “Good. Then I think it's only fair if we introduce ourselves.” She pressed a hand to herself, her head slightly bowed. “I'm Laura Hale. That,” she pointed to Derek, “is my brother Derek. We have a younger sister named Cora, but she won't be involved with this. Much.”

“Yeah, we already know that. We also know that,” Stiles lifted a hand to point at Isaac, “that is Isaac. I gotta say, trying to be a spy by dating my brother?” He scoffed and shook his head. “Not the best plan, buddy.”

Isaac gave him a deadpan look followed by an eye roll. “I didn't ask Scott out on a date to spy on you. I asked him out because I think he's cute.”

Scott practically beamed behind Stiles. “Really?” When Isaac nodded, the bright smile got bigger, and Stiles swatted at him. “Stop flirting with the enemy.”

Laura huffed at them, a smile Stiles would almost call fond on her lips. “Anyway yes, that's Isaac. Over there,” she motioned over to Blondie and Muscles, “are Erica and Boyd.” She crossed her arms, eyes on Stiles. “Your turn.”

Stiles scoffed, had to bite his lip not to laugh. “And here I thought you guys already knew who we are.”

“We do,” Derek said with a shrug, his resting face grumpy and damn it, it wasn't supposed to look good on him but it did. “It's called manners. Not that you've heard of them before.”

Stiles could hear Malia snort behind him, but he was too busy gaping at Derek to do anything. “Oh my God, you are such a piece of shit.” Derek offered him a grin and a shrug. “Okay well, I'm Stiles, that's Scott, obviously.” He motioned in the direction of the others, as he continued. “That's Allison, Lydia, Malia, Kira, and Danny.” He then turned to the Hales and put on a forced smile. “Nice to meet you, shitheads. Hope you're ready to get your asses kicked in your own competition.”

Most of the Hales laughed, Boyd just raised an unimpressed brow. Derek walked forward, stopping only a few steps away from Stiles, and Stiles made himself taller. Some would say it was a failed attempt at intimidating Derek and maybe they would be right, but Stiles saw how Derek's eyes dropped down to his lips for just a split second. Stiles couldn't help but feel smug at that, a grin tugging at his lips.

“And I hope you've packed your bags, 'cause you'll be leaving this town soon,” Derek replied, his voice dropping to a low rumble that Stiles did not find sexy. He didn't.

Stiles huffed, cocking a brow. “Well, neither of us are leaving this town before I get revenge for my jaw. But hey, did you know I'm slightly psychic?” He brought his right hand up and pressed it to the side of his head. “'Cause the spirits are telling me you'll be the ones to be packing your bags and running out of here with your tails between your legs.”

Derek's impressive brows rose, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Lydia stepped forward. “Okay, enough with the flirting. If you need to get rid of the sexual tension, do it in private.”

Stiles snapped his head around and gaped at Lydia. “Wha- That was not flirting and there's no sexual tension!” Lydia looked at him, silently telling him “really?” and he could hear Kira holding back a laugh, probably because Malia had leaned over and whispered something to her. Stiles wouldn't be surprised, he knew his friends after all. He also knew that Scott had practically rolled his eyes to the back of his skull, when Derek had stepped close to him. He knew because he knew his brother better than anyone.

“Sure there's not.” Lydia shook her head and turned her attention to the Hales, a smile on her face. “We can discuss the first part of this competition inside. Since you already know where our base is, you might as well have a look around.”

Lydia walked in first and the rest of them followed. Derek shoved lightly at Stiles' shoulder as he passed him, and Stiles raised a hand to flip him off, to which Derek just grinned. Lydia lead them down to the basement, didn't bother with the rest of the floors, since the basement was the most used anyway.

“I'm sure we'll get along just fine,” Lydia started once everyone was in the basement, Erica looking around at the monitors, “but I do need to set a few rules straight.” Laura turned to her, brows climbing her forehead in either surprise or admiration. “There will be no broken bones and no injures that will have an effect on the team. Like when Derek bruised Stiles' jaw. No more of that, at least not during any challenge.”

Laura nodded and shot her brother a look. “I agree. There will be no sabotage from any of us and if there is, the other team wins by default.”

“Okay.” Stiles clasped his hands together and stepped away from Derek. “Then let's talk first challenge. Do we go big or small?”

“Well, I prefer big,” Isaac said from where he was leaning against one of the tables, and he threw a wink over at Scott, and Stiles didn't miss when he also threw Allison a glance.

Stiles gaped at him for a full two seconds. “Oh my God, you are horrible. I should have shot you when I had the chance.” Lydia said his name in a warning tone, and he quickly threw his hands up. “Sorry, but I should have.”

“And Derek should have snapped your neck when he had the chance,” Isaac threw back, a tight smile on his face. “We can't always get what we want.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Isaac and felt the sudden need to stick his tongue out at him or flip him off, but he did neither. Instead he huffed and crossed his arms, letting Lydia take the word. “Okay, so we go big. Is robbing a place big enough for you?”

“How 'bout robbing the museum?” Erica suggested, her hand lightly tracing up and down Boyd's forearm that was hanging from her shoulder. “The one who steals the most expensive art piece wins.”

Stiles instantly perked up, snapped his fingers and pointed over at the blonde. “That's an awesome idea, let's do that.” He turned to Lydia and put on a big smile. “Please?”

Lydia nodded at Erica. “I agree, it's a good idea.” Erica smiled and stood up taller, obviously proud of herself. “How many from each team do we send in?”

“I think it'll be easier with just one on the field and the rest guiding them from base,” Allison joined in from next to Scott, arms crossed and attention fully on Lydia. “We can have another as the get away driver, but I'd say we go with minimal people on this one.”

“Okay, then who's gonna go in?” Stiles asked and looked around his team. He watched as they all shared a look and then looked back at him. He could only sigh because he knew what that meant. “Why does it always have to be me?”

“Don't start,” Malia said, her brows low as she looked at him. “You know you'd be annoyed if you had to sit down here with the rest of us.”

“And bored out of my mind, good point.” He would have been itching to get out there and help with the job, and he would have ended up annoying everyone else if he had to sit back.

“Well if Stiles is going for you guys,” Laura turned to her brother, a smile on her face, “I think Derek should go for us.”

Derek slowly turned his head, tilting it slightly, and he gave her a look of narrowed eyes and low brows. “Why?”

“Because not only are you an excellent thief, you also know the museum like the back of your hand.” The thought of Derek the history nerd made Stiles bite back a laugh. Not because it was particularly funny, but because it was cute, although he wouldn't admit to thinking that. Derek noticed that Stiles was very obviously holding back a laugh, a hand over his mouth, and he glared heatedly at him. A glare Stiles returned with a wink and letting a small, choked laugh escape between his fingers.

Scott looked between the two of them, an unsure look on his face, and Malia broke the silence that had fallen in the room. “Okay, that's settled. When do we start?”

“Sunday, 10 PM,” Lydia answered immediately, looking over at Laura for a confirming nod. “The museum will be closed all day, and the night guard won't be there yet. All we have to worry about are the security cameras. Either Danny will take care of them, or you will.”

Laura hummed in thought, and then looked over at where Danny had taken a seat in his chair. “I think Danny can take care of this one. We'll get the next one.”

Lydia looked over at Danny. Danny shrugged and said “Yeah, I can do it,” to Lydia's silent question. Lydia nodded and turned back to the Hales, a smile on her lips. “We'll see you on Sunday then.”

Laura returned the smile. “Best of luck,” she said, then turned and walked up the stairs, the rest of the Hales following shortly after. Isaac winked at Scott and smiled at Allison, and Derek flipped Stiles off.

Stiles gaped at him, gaped as Derek grinned widely at him halfway up the stairs. “I'm gonna kick your fucking ass on Sunday, Hale!” he yelled just as Derek disappeared out of view. He scoffed and ignored the way Malia was looking at him, like she wanted to laugh or scoff but did neither.

“There's no way we're losing to that asshole,” he grumbled between clenched teeth, crossing his arms in a huff like a child. Brows furrowing, he turned to Lydia. “There's no way we're losing, right?”

Lydia shrugged. “That's entirely up to you. You're the only one on the field on this one after all.”

Stiles made a face, wrinkling his nose for a second, before he nodded in determination. “I'm gonna beat his ass.”

“Yeah, I bet you'd love to do that,” he only vaguely registered Danny saying to his right, and he shot him a quick glare but otherwise ignored it.

Stiles was going to win on Sunday, even if it took a bit of cheating to do so.

**{ x }**

“Why does Jackson have to drive again?” Stiles complained with a groan, leaning heavily back against the chair until he was practically laying down.

“Because,” Lydia started without taking her eyes off of the monitor in front of her, “Scott is stuck at the hospital, I'll be busy guiding you with Danny down here, Malia can't drive, Kira didn't want to, and Jackson has the night off anyway. So stop complaining and focus on the job.”

Stiles glanced over at Jackson, Jackson who was smiling tightly at him, and he could only groan and roll his eyes. Sometimes he wished they didn't need Jackson on their team, and sometimes he wished Lydia wouldn't defend him whenever Stiles suggested they should get rid of him. Stiles always blamed it on the fact that Lydia and Jackson dated for a while in high school, but he knew Lydia was smart, knew that getting rid of Jackson would only end badly for all of them.

“Fine,” he sighed and pushed himself up to stand, pointing a finger at Jackson. “But if you complain about the car you're driving, I'm gonna punch you in your stupid, perfect face.”

Jackson let his head fall to one side, bitch face strong. “I'm not stupid enough to drive my Porsche to a crime scene, Stilinski.”

“Oh, I don't know, _Whittemore_ ,” Stiles said, making a wild hand gesture in Jackson's direction, “maybe you are. You were dumb enough to purposely hurt your shoulder just to get out of a lacrosse game.”

“I didn't do that on purpose!” Jackson's jaw was clenching, and Stiles bit back the smirk that tugged at his lips. Pissing Jackson off was as fun and as easy as it always had been. Jackson took notice of the gleam in his eyes, and he let out a scoff. “You're an ass, did you know that?”

Stiles nodded, letting the smirk grow, and Lydia sighed, shoulders hanging low as she turned to look at Allison. “Why do I bother with those two?”

Allison smiled softly and put a hand on Lydia's shoulder. “I don't know why any of us bother with those two anymore.”

Somehow they managed to make it to a block from the museum at 9:57 PM with a minimal amount of fighting during the ride over. Stiles very nearly pulled his gun and shot Jackson's brains out at least twice, but Lydia very quickly reminded him of the job and that he kind of did need Jackson alive.

Once they were parked, Stiles stepped out of the car, eyes immediately on where Derek stood leaning against another car just a bit away from him. He could see an unfamiliar woman in the front seat of the car. Unfamiliar but with familiar features, so he guessed that was Cora. “So when you said your little sister wouldn't be involved much,” he started, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants as he walked closer, a playful grin playing on his lips, “you really meant she's your driver, huh?”

Derek shrugged, leather jacket stretched over his biceps – and seriously, who wears a leather jacket to a museum robbery? “She wanted to be involved somehow, so this is what she gets.”

“Yeah, 'cause my siblings seem to think I wouldn't know how to handle myself anywhere but behind the wheel,” came Cora's dry response, her eyes fixed on the dark and empty street directly in front of the car. She did, however, turn her head and give Stiles a quick but forced smile, a permanent grumpy look on her face. She looked a lot like her brother. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Stiles raised a hand, letting it fall back down once Cora looked away from him. He turned to Derek, Derek who had been watching him since he arrived. “So you ready to get your ass kicked in your own competition?” he asked with a grin playing his on lips.

Derek raised both his strong brows, stayed silent for a moment, then let out a huff of a laugh. “If you think you can win this one, you're very wrong.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.” Stiles stepped closer, the playful grin growing wider on his face. “You're a history nerd, so of course you'll know what art piece is the most valuable.” The grin faded once that hit him, like he hadn't realized it until the moment he said it. Which he probably hadn't, because his mouth usually worked quicker than his brain. “It's kind of unfair, gotta be honest. I'm starting to think you planned this, making Erica pick a challenge you'd absolutely win.” He raised a hand and poked a finger at Derek's firm chest, stepping into his space. “Well, guess what? If you win this one, it'll be the only one you win, because I will beat your ass in everything else.”

Derek kept his eyes on him, his gaze dropping to Stiles' grinning lips for just a second, before he snapped it back up to his brown eyes, brown eyes glistening in the moonlight. He opened his mouth to say something, but Cora's groan interrupted the moment they were having. “Could you please stop flirting and go rob the place?”

Stiles blinked, cleared his throat, and stepped back with a quick nod. “Right.” He stretched out his zipped up jacket and turned away from Derek. “DM, what's the status with the cameras?”

“ _Lydia's working on them, Fox, give her a minute_ ,” came Danny's voice in Stiles' ear.

“And the alarms?” Derek asked, pulling a mask down over his face. Stiles had to hold back a laugh to not laugh at the wolf theme, although he guessed it would be kind of fitting in some way.

“ _The alarms are ready to go whenever you two are ready, Blue_ ,” Danny replied, the sound of keys on a keyboard being pushed very quickly in the background.

“Blue's ready,” Derek responded and turned in the direction of the museum a block away. He started moving and looked at Stiles behind him. “Are you coming, Foxy?” The grin Derek was sporting was practically audible in his words even if it was hidden by the mask.

“If you call me that one more time, I'll start calling you Blue Balls,” Stiles said in a low voice as he pulled his mask down and the hood of his jacket up. He could hear a few people choke in his ear, probably trying very hard not to laugh.

The museum came into view, and Stiles told Danny to go ahead and cut the alarms, Lydia following with cutting out the cameras. Stiles stood still next to Derek for only ten seconds, before the whole museum went dark, and they got the green light to break in.

Stiles wasn't a team player. Some might call him that, Scott definitely would, but he himself wouldn't. He liked working with people he trusted, and he could count the people he trusted on one hand. Derek was not one of those people, so he let Derek break in his way, while he did his own. He wasn't going to work with this guy. This was a competition, so why should he?

Breaking in didn't take long. After years of doing this, he had become quite the expert at breaking locks to windows and slide in unnoticed. Museums were slightly harder to break into, but he found a way around it and silently dropped into a dark room with paintings on the wall and a big ugly vase displayed in the middle of the room.

“Hey Ariel,” he whispered, taking out the flashlight he had in his pocket and turning it on, scanning the room slowly. “Would it be cheating if you told me what the most valuable art piece in here is?” He slowly moved up, heading for the doorway to the next room.

“ _I would say it's absolutely cheating_ ,” Isaac's voice sounded in his ear, and he could only roll his eyes, groaning internally.

“Here's my argument for that,” Stiles started, turning the corner to another room full of art he didn't find particularly good. “Blue Balls is apparently a big museum nerd and has probably been here more than a billion times. My guess is that he knows which art piece is the most valuable, so he has an unfair advantage. It's only fair if I get at least a hint.”

“ _Here's a hint for you_ ,” Derek whispered in his ear, and it did not make him shudder just a little. Absolutely not. “ _The most valuable art piece is on the second floor_.”

Stiles fell quiet and he squinted ahead of him, squinted at the beam of light his flashlight send in front of him. “I don't trust you on that,” he responded after a minute of silence. “You're just trying to throw me off and make me lose really bad, but guess what?” He laughed quietly, the sound barely echoing in the empty room. “That's not going to work on me, big guy.”

“ _What a shame_ ,” Derek said dryly, and Stiles made a face to no one but himself.

He may not have been fooled by Derek's attempt to sabotage him, but he couldn't help but move toward the stairs leading up to the second floor anyway. “But seriously, Ariel,” he said after there had been a silence for a while, “a little hint, please?”

There was a sigh in his ear, a sigh of annoyance. “ _Look for a painting or something that looks really old. Old art pieces are the most valuable_.”

“Everything in here looks old though,” Stiles complained. No reply came, and even if there did, he wasn't listening. He wasn't listening because the beam of his flashlight hit a dark figure at the end of the hall, and he couldn't help the smirk that spread on his face under the mask. “I've got eyes on Blue Balls,” he announced just as Derek stood up straight and pointed his own flashlight at him.

“ _No one asked to hear about your future, Fox_ ,” came Danny's distracted response. Stiles didn't need to see Derek's face to know that he was laughing, not with the way his shoulder shook ever so slightly.

Stiles groaned and moved closer to Derek. “Haha, very funny.” He flicked the flashlight down to not blind the man behind the wolf mask, although he did have a strong urge to just keep the bright light directed at his face. “At least now I know I must be going the right way.”

“Or maybe I'm just leading you the wrong way.” Derek's voice was slightly muffled because of the mask, but Stiles heard him loud and clear anyway.

Stiles scoffed, the noise escaping him sounding close to a laugh. “That would be idiotic of you. You'd be wasting time, and we've only got...” He paused, both in talking and in walking. “Uh, DM, how long 'til the night guard shows up?” he asked and quickly started following Derek down the dark and empty hallway.

“ _8 minutes and 32 seconds_ ,” was Danny's answer, and Stiles nodded. “So we've got plenty of time. I don't know about you though, but I'd like to be long gone when the night guard shows up, so I'm gonna hurry and grab something super expensive.”

Stiles picked up speed and walked past Derek, flashlight lighting the way in front of him. A lot of the art pieces he paused to look at looked like crap, looked old and probably very expensive. But Stiles wasn't an expert in anything art related, and he wouldn't be able to even throw a guess at what any of this would cost. If anything he'd insult them. Which he had. Several times. In his head.

He vaguely paid attention to the beam of light that caught the corner of his eye, and he could only groan. “Guys, you do know we're gonna lose this one, right?” he whispered into his microphone, his eyes searching for the oldest looking piece of garbage he could find. “Blue Balls has got the biggest unfair advantage.”

“ _Wouldn't be such an unfair advantage if you had paid attention in history class, Foxy_ ,” Derek said in his ear a second later, and Stiles rolled his eyes.

He ignored the voice in his ear that told him how long he had left to pick anything out. He ignored it and went from garbage to garbage, touching a few with gloved fingers like that would help him make out how old it was in any way. He did glance at the year written on the slab under or next to the art piece, but it wasn't every piece that had a year along with it.

He had just given up on guessing and grabbed a painting off the wall, when Derek's voice said “ _Red, 'm heading your way, get ready to leave_ ,” in his ear. He quickly spun around and lifted his flashlight, catching a quiet but rushing figure in a room further away from the room he had walked into.

“Shit,” Stiles cursed low and put the painting under his arm for a better hold. “Jay, I'm right behind Blue Balls. Get ready.”

It wasn't a race. Stiles knew it wasn't a race. He asked himself why he wanted it to be, why it felt like it, but he didn't know. Maybe it was because he knew Derek had beat him in picking the most valuable art piece – a small statue of some kind, Stiles could just barely see it clutched in Derek's hand – and he wasn't going to let him beat him in the time it took. Was it childish? Absolutely, but Stiles didn't care.

He also didn't care that picking up an ugly vase as he ran toward Derek and throwing it toward him was also very childish, because he did it anyway. The vase shattered to a thousand pieces as it hit the ground, and Derek stumbled around them, just barely keeping his balance.

Stiles started running and when he passed Derek who had whipped around, he flipped him off and ran down the stairs and toward the window he had come in of. “ _2 minutes_ ,” he heard in his ear, as he ran toward the parked cars waiting for them.

He heard running footsteps behind him, footsteps coming closer, and he sprinted. He sprinted until he made it to Jackson and practically threw himself into the opened car door. “Go, go, go!” he yelled, waving his hands around. He lifted his mask and stuck his tongue out at Derek when they drove past them, Derek who raised a hand and flipped him off, impressive brows heavy over his hazel eyes and sweat running down his grumpy features.

Two days later Boyd came back with the results, having gotten both pieces sold on the black market. The statue Derek had stolen was twice as valuable as the one painting Stiles had grabbed, if not more.

Stiles wasn't surprised, but he didn't hide his disappointment.

One of these days he was definitely going to wipe that ridiculous grin off of Derek's ridiculous face.

**{ x }**

Stiles wasn't sure when it happened, but one day the Hales just started hanging out around the Cave like they had always been welcome there. Stiles hadn't invited them, although he suspected Lydia had. They may be in the middle of a “friendly” competition, but they were enemies. Stiles kept reminding everyone of that, and everyone promptly ignored him, waved him off. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one who cared about their rivalry.

A whole three days after the colossal loss for the Beacon Hills Outlaws during the museum challenge Cora finally decided to make her presence known and come greet the competing team. They were all hanging out on the first floor, which was weird and Stiles had complained a lot about it, in the room where the spare clothes used to be – they had moved the clothes to the second floor, after Laura had suggested it. It was easier that way, the bathrooms were closer – when Erica walked in, beautiful as ever, with Cora following in right behind her, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket.

“Look who decided to show her face,” Erica nearly sang, a wide and toothy smile on her face. She walked over and threw herself in Boyd's lap, before following everyone else's attention to the brown haired woman standing in the room.

Laura was immediately up from her seat next to Derek, and she went straight over to hug her sister, the hug returned with a slight huff. “Everyone,” she said as she stepped back, her eyes on the rivaling team. “This is my sister, Cora.”

“Nice to meet you, Cora,” Lydia greeted her, a smile on her lips. She had pulled her shoulders back, had sat up taller, and her eyes were focused on Cora.

Stiles knew that look. It was the same look she had given the twin brother – Aiden or something, the straight douche who hadn't treated her well, and Stiles had maybe punched him a few times, before Lydia had dumped him – in their senior year of high school, and the same look she had given the woman at the bar the year before, the woman she had taken home, and the woman that didn't stick around. Stiles knew that look, and he half expected Lydia to walk over and make her move, but she just kept sitting there next to Allison, eyes trained on Cora.

And when Stiles looked back over at the youngest Hale, he saw a smile, maybe a grin, tug at her lips, as she nodded her head once shortly. “Nice to meet you too, uh?” Her brows knitted together, the smile still hinting on her lips.

“Lydia.” Allison lightly bumped her elbow into Lydia's side to encourage her, and Lydia stood up and walked over. She was only a bit taller than Cora, or maybe that was just because Lydia was wearing heels and Cora was wearing sneakers. “Lydia Martin. Come join us.” Cora nodded and followed her to the couch. Allison scooted a bit closer to Scott to make more room once Lydia had returned, her hand resting lightly on Cora's arm.

Stiles watched them for a moment from his seat in a crappy, old chair, but then he looked away. Looked over at where Derek was watching his younger sister and Lydia closely, eyes narrow and brows heavy. Stiles couldn't and didn't hide the snort that escaped him, and he threw the wrapper from the piece of hard candy he had eaten a while back at him, hitting his cheek. “Lighten up, wolf boy.” Derek glared at him, grunted, and leaned back, crossing his arms.

The rest of team BH eventually introduced themselves, once Lydia let Cora's attention go. After that, the conversation started back up. It felt strange, acting so friendly around each other while they were enemies and fighting each other, while they were in the middle of a competition. The conversation revolved around nothing but what the next challenge would be though, and Stiles constantly insulted the Hales, Malia occasionally jumping in on the insults, so it wasn't completely civilized. The rivalry was still there, it just didn't look like it from the outside.

Stiles sort of hated that they were so friendly around each other. Or pretended to be friendly with the obvious underlining of hate sizzling right under the tight smiles and the sarcastic comments. They were still rivals, still competing to see who would leave the town in shame for having lost, and they were still only talking about the next competition. Most of the time. Stiles tried to keep the conversation on strictly that, but occasionally the others wouldn't have that, and their focus went elsewhere.

Stiles sort of really hated how Isaac was openly flirting with Scott and more privately flirting with Allison. He was protective over his brother, and Allison was a good friend, so either Isaac had to make up his mind, or Stiles would have to punch some sense into him – or just beat him as a warning.

Stiles sort of really hated how Cora and Lydia waltzed around each other, except they weren't avoiding each other. Lydia openly put her hands on Cora, and Cora did the same. There were friendly smiles between them, occasionally bickering, but they were friendly. And Stiles did catch them making out in one of the bathrooms one day, so friendly wasn't really the right word.

He sort of really hated how quickly that happened, but then again Cora wasn't so bad. She wasn't really a big part of the Hales, was really only the driver and not a threat, so he told himself to be okay with it. He high fived Lydia once she emerged from the bathroom with an out of breath Cora, her hair quickly pulled into a messy ponytail.

17 days after the museum heist, a week into planning the next challenge – a big one, Stiles had suggested the bank building further in town, the one where all the douches in suits would make millions and be all high and mighty like they owned the town – and Stiles had started to get used to having their rivals wandering in and out of the Cave more often than not.

It was starting to feel less like a rivalry and more like a friendly competition, and he didn't exactly like that. Or maybe he did and that was what bothered him.

It was a rainy Thursday when Stiles rushed into the Cave, the jacket over his head and hanging off of his shoulders the only thing keeping him from getting completely soaked. He groaned and pulled the plastic container of takeout food out from under the jacket, throwing the soaked jacket elsewhere once he was inside.

He knew the place would be practically empty, if not completely empty. Malia had finally gone and asked Kira out, and they were probably busy making out in the movie theater. Scott was elbow deep in patients at the hospital, while Lydia had send Stiles a text simply saying “Busy with Cora.” Stiles hadn't asked and had been more than happy to leave it at that. He wasn't sure where Danny was, guessed he was probably hanging out with Jackson, had probably tagged along in court. Allison had taken a family day, since her father was back in town for a few days.

Stiles expected the place to be empty, which was why he froze the moment he heard a groan from the room to his right.

Slowly he turned, walking silently toward the room. There was no door to any of the rooms except for the bathrooms on the second floor. The place was falling apart, and the doors had been some of the first things to go shortly after they had marked this as their territory. Stiles poked his head around, his free hand, the hand that wasn't carrying the takeout, already clutching the gun in his belt. But he could only sigh with relief when he saw Derek doing push ups. The relief quickly turned to wonder, his eyes locked on Derek.

Derek's bare arms were glistening with sweat, the muscles in his biceps jumping every time he pulled himself back up from the floor. Dust, dirt, and everything else on the floor flew across the room as Derek exhaled sharply, pushing himself up. He was wearing a white tank top, sweat coating every bare part of his body, and from where Stiles stood, he could see a tattoo poking out from the back of the tank top.

Stiles found himself in a trance, his pants slowly getting tighter as he watched those muscles tense and listened to the groans escaping his rival. He found himself in a trance for so long, that he didn't realize Derek had stopped, stood up, and was currently looking at him with that ridiculous grin.

“Can I help you?” Derek asked, slightly out of breath. His pecks jumped, as he wiped his dirty hands off on the side of his already dirty jeans.

Stiles swallowed thickly and shook his head, putting on a smile as he stepped into the room. “I should be asking you that,” he said, sliding down along the wall further in the room until he was seated on the floor, a sigh passing his parted lips. “This is my place after all, not yours. In case you forgot that.”

Derek huffed and gave him a look of raised brows. “Something like 'your house, your rules'?” Stiles nodded and pointed the plastic fork at him, as he pulled the takeout container into his lap. Derek shook his head and sat down on the floor. “Well, I'm just working out. Not snooping around, if that's what you thought.”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something back, but he was distracted when Derek started doing sit ups, his abs tensing. He knew he was gaping, knew he was staring, knew Derek was grinning at him the second time he pulled himself up to a sitting position. He knew this, but he did nothing about it. Not until he scoffed, rolled his eyes, and opened the container. “I'm still gonna watch you, big guy. I don't trust you.”

“Sure you're watching to keep an eye on me,” Derek grunted as he sat back up, and he paused for a moment to look back at Stiles, a smirk playing over his lips, “or are you watching just to watch?”

Stiles laughed loudly, the laugh short, and he stabbed the fork down into the container. “Don't get cocky. You may have tons of muscles, like _damn_ , but I still hate you. Your physique ain't gonna change that, buddy.”

Derek let out a laugh, a laugh that was interrupted by a groan as he pulled himself up, stopping to look at Stiles again. “Are you saying you're attracted to me, Stilinski?”

Stiles nearly choked on his food, spluttering and missing the way Derek grinned at him before continuing to do sit ups. “You're thinking way too highly of yourself, Hale,” he let out in a choked voice. He coughed a few times until he could breathe again.

“But it's true.” Derek did only two more sit ups, before he stopped and just sat there, sat there and looked over at Stiles. “You're attracted to me, don't deny it.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Stiles pointed at Derek with the plastic fork. “I'm starting to think you're the one who's attracted to _me_. You hit on me at the Pendragons' and now again.” He let a slightly cocky smile form on his lips. “Are you attracted to me, Derek Hale?”

Derek looked like he was about to deny it, deny it as much as Stiles had denied his attraction to him, but then he looked at him, and Stiles suddenly felt like a prey hunted by a wolf. “What if I am?”

The smile quickly fell from Stiles' features, and he turned to gaping at Derek instead. He scoffed halfheartedly and pulled his head back just a little, forcing his mouth to close. “Well, sucks for you 'cause I'm not putting out to you.”

Derek stood up, his muscles tensing and Stiles only just noticed that his feet were bare. Derek stood up and walked toward him, the sweat becoming more noticeable now that he was closer, and Stiles couldn't stop his eyes from wandering down over the muscular torso in front of him. Derek moved closer and then crouched down, coming down to be on eye level. They were close, almost uncomfortably close, and Stiles felt his heartbeat pick up. They were close enough that if either of them laughed and exhaled, the other would feel it.

Stiles watched as Derek's eyes wandered down his face, stayed on his lips for several long seconds, before finally moving back to his eyes. “We'll see about that,” he said in a near whisper.

Stiles hated himself a little bit when he looked back at Derek's lips, even though he quickly snapped his eyes back to those hazel ones staring back at him. And then Derek leaned forward, tilting his head ever so slightly. Stiles felt his chest tighten, his breath catching in his throat, and his eyes slipping closed.

But a kiss didn't happen. Because Derek grinned at him and stood up, tossing a piece of food he had stolen from Stiles' plastic container into his mouth. “See you tomorrow, Foxy,” he said, winked at him, and spun around as he headed for the exit.

Stiles groaned and flipped Derek off, even though he couldn't see it. He looked away for only a moment, before he felt his gaze drawn back to Derek's back. First to the black lines of his tattoo poking out of his tank top and the way his muscles tensed as he pulled a shirt over his head. But then his gaze wandered downward, down to his ass.

And Stiles found himself shamelessly keeping his eyes there until Derek was out of view.

**{ x }**

Robbing a bank was easy. But robbing a building full of bankers? Not as easy.

“I've got an idea!” Stiles announced as he ran down the stairs to the basement where everyone else was seated, trying to come up with a way to do this challenge. He nearly tripped on the last step, but he managed to catch himself on the railing before then, and he chose to ignore the way Derek bit back a laugh. “Helicopters.”

“Helicopters,” Lydia repeated slowly, uncrossing her legs and standing up. “You do realize, that helicopters are loud and very visible, right? And that we don't have any helicopter, let alone two.”

Stiles smiled widely and lifted a finger, pointing at her. “Except we do. You know Merlyn, right?” Lydia nodded, Laura looked at him confused along with the rest of the Hales, so Stiles explained. “Merlyn sort of helped us a while ago, when we needed an armored vehicle, it's not important. What is important is that he's got three helicopters, and I'm sure he'll let us borrow two.”

“And how sure are you exactly?” Malia jumped in. “'Cause if he won't let us borrow them, we might as well come up with something else now.”

“I'm 100% sure he'll let us borrow them,” Stiles said with a nod. “As in I asked him, and he said yes.” Lydia gave him a look, knowing full well that wasn't all, and Stiles looked away. “If we pay him 40k.”

Derek was the one to scoff, shaking his head. “I have a better idea. Why don't we steal them?”

“Because, _idiot_.” Stiles turned to him. “Merlyn will literally cut our heads off, and I don't know about you, but I'm not exactly trying to die because of this competition.”

“I didn't mean we as in all of us,” Derek said, his jaw clenching slightly. “I meant we as in me and Erica. Erica knows how to fly, and so do I.”

“Seriously?” Stiles threw his arms up. “Is there anything you can't do?”

Derek seemed to seriously think about it, then he shrugged. “I can't swim.”

Stiles scoffed at him, wanted to say he was impressed to the point of hatred, but then Lydia started talking again. “That could actually work. Merlyn has cameras everywhere, and he will know if we hack them. He knows all our faces, so why not give him two he doesn't recognize?”

“Except I already asked for them, so it'll be suspicious if they get stolen right after.” Stiles heaved a heavy sigh and threw himself on a chair next to Danny. “Is now the time we start coming up with alternatives?”

Derek nearly laughed at him, the near laugh coming out as a huff. “You give up too easy, Stiles,” he said as he stood up, throwing Stiles a look. “We'll get the helicopters, don't worry.” He turned to the stairs, pointing at Erica who was already getting up. “Erica, with me. Lydia, text me the address.”

Stiles gaped after the two, and once they were out of view, he turned to the rest in the basement. “He's gonna get us killed.”

It wasn't two hour later, that Stiles received a text from Merlyn. Or he assumed it was from Merlyn, because Merlyn always made sure he wasn't to be tracked.

 **(Unknown Number):** You can borrow them for one day. Get them back without a scratch.

Stiles threw his fist in the air, handed his phone to show Lydia, and then he hurried outside when he heard the sound of spinning blades approaching. He stood next to Laura and watched as Erica and Derek maneuvered each helicopter down to the ground, the dust and sand flying everywhere. Stiles had trouble keeping his eyes open, had to squint to even see anything, but he forced himself to look anyway.

He watched as Derek landed next to Erica, the blades only centimeters apart as they turned off. He watched as Derek stepped out of the helicopter, tossing the headphones into the seat, and he watched him high five Erica as they headed toward them.

“Well, color me impressed,” Stiles said, when Derek spread his arms out only a few steps from him, as if silently asking what he thought. “Never took you for a guy who could do that.”

“What can I say? I'm full of surprises.” Derek brushed the dirt off of Stiles' jacket, gave him a smile, and then headed inside with Erica. Erica who looked between the two, like she knew something they didn't. And glancing at Laura, she probably knew that something too. Stiles didn't know whether to be terrified or- Scratch that, he was definitely terrified.

Stiles snapped himself out of it and followed them inside, his hands ruffling his hair to get the dirt and sand out.

**{ x }**

“Okay, go over the plan one more time,” Lydia said, eyes locked onto where Stiles was suiting up.

Stiles sighed, zipping up the jacket he had just thrown on. “You fly me to the building, Erica flies Derek. Derek and I will parachute onto the roof of the building.” He let out a sigh, his eyes widening as he did. “That's gonna go awesome, I'm sure.” He grabbed the gun Allison handed to him and screwed the silencer on. “We'll wait for clearance on the top floor, then Laura will cut the cameras, and Derek and I will rappel down to the top floor and break in.” Putting the gun in the holster on his right hip, he turned to Lydia. “First one to make it to the vault and back out to the get away vehicle, before the cops or security, or both if we're shit, notice us wins.”

Lydia gave him a short nod, then she turned to Derek who was already ready, parachute bag on and secured around his chest. “And you're clear on the plan too, right?”

Derek nodded, arms crossed over his chest, and Stiles was admiring the way black looked on him. “Clear, ready to move.”

Stiles grabbed the parachute waiting for him on the table, the parachute Allison had packed and checked about ten times by the time he grabbed it. He put it on his shoulders and went around the table, heading for the stairs. “Then let's move. Building should be empty by now.”

Lydia got into the helicopter first, headphones on, Erica did the same. Stiles looked at the vehicle, swallowing thickly. He didn't realize Derek was there, before there was a hand on his arm. “You okay?”

Stiles hated how concerned Derek looked. He hated it, because they were rivals, _enemies_. They weren't supposed to care about each other. At all. So Stiles huffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course I'm okay, idiot. I'm gonna beat your ass, why wouldn't I be okay?”

He let out a forced laugh and went into Lydia's helicopter just as the blades started spinning. Derek stood there and looked at Stiles for another moment, before he jumped into Erica's helicopter and they were off.

Stiles clung onto the helicopter seat as they ascended, went up until they could barely see the ground for the clouds. Lucky them to be doing this on a clouded night. Getting there was easy, Lydia was a surprisingly steady pilot, and Stiles only panicked once because he thought they were going to crash into Derek and Erica. They didn't.

They both got to the building around the same time, the roof far down. “Ariel and Fox in position,” Lydia told the rest of their team over comms. “Blue and Catwoman ready,” Erica said a second after.

“Oh my God, your code name is Catwoman?” Stiles exclaimed, gaping over at the other helicopter where he could just barely see Erica behind Derek, see her smile and nod. “That's the coolest thing I've ever heard.” He turned to Lydia for just a moment. “Why didn't I call myself Batman? That would have been awesome!”

Stiles could almost _hear_ the eye roll that accompanied the groan Derek responded with, and he could practically feel how that groan made his pants feel tighter, but he ignored it. This was not the time nor the place to pop a boner, especially not a boner for his rival. No matter how hot he happened to be.

“Get ready, Foxy!” Derek yelled in Stiles' ear, yelled over the loud sound of the blades above them. He looked down at the roof below them, then snapped his eyes up to meet Stiles' once both of them had pushed the side door open, and he grinned. “Time to jump!”

Stiles didn't look down, didn't want to see what could potentially be his death. Instead he kept his eyes and attention locked onto Derek, Derek and his stupid, cocky grin. Derek had won the first challenge, there was no way Stiles was going to let him win this one too.

“Hey, Hale!” he yelled, scooting out to the edge of the helicopter, one foot on the rail below it. He made the mistake of glancing downward, but he was quick to look over at Derek, forcing a wide grin on his lips. “You suck!” he yelled loudly and raised a hand to flip him off, before he tugged his mask down over his face.

The grin on Derek's face widened, and he didn't hesitate to flip Stiles off in return. Stiles laughed loudly, partly because he was terrified and partly because Derek nearly lost his grip when he pulled the wolf mask over his face. He laughed and then they both jumped, letting go of the helicopters.

Stiles had parachuted a few times before, never once did he really like it. The first time he had been slightly drunk when someone got him to agree to it, and by the time it was actually happening, he clung onto the plane for a lot longer than he was allowed to, so he got pushed out. After that terrible first time, things had gotten a bit easier though, because then he did it willingly.

Stiles had parachuted before, and he landed on the roof just after Derek, buckling to his knees once his feet touched the ground. He let out a groan, closed his eyes, and waited for his heart to calm down, before he stood up and pulled the parachute bag off of him, discarding it on the roof along with Derek's. They didn't need to clean that up, none of their prints were on either of them and nothing could tie them to them.

“Not a word, Blue Balls,” Stiles said the moment he was on his feet, shooting Derek a glare that he knew he couldn't see, but he felt better doing it. “Not. A. Word.”

Derek raised his glove clad hands. “Wasn't going to say anything, Foxy.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at him and stepped closer to the edge of the roof, grabbing the hook in his belt. “DM, what's the status for top floor?”

“ _Guard by the elevator, give it a minute_ ;” came the response. Another twenty seconds passed before Danny told them to go ahead, top floor clear. Stiles hooked himself to the concrete, made sure it was secure, and he glanced to his right where Derek was doing the same.

“Alpha, camera status,” Derek said calmly as he jumped up and over until he was hanging on the side of the building, just above the row of windows. Stiles watched the way his muscles tensed, watched the way Derek slowly moved downward, for several seconds, before he did the same, although with less elegance and more grunting.

“ _Cameras are dead_ ,” Laura told them shortly after, and Derek started working on getting the window opened.

Stiles was just about to follow his lead, when Danny's voice made him stop. “ _Wait, Fox. Alpha, they're not dead at all. Are you trying to get them killed_?”

Stiles had stopped moving, but Derek was still working, finally prying the window open and slipping inside. Stiles held a hand out in disbelief, and he half expected an alarm to start going off. “Blue Balls just went in anyway. Are we fucked?”

“ _What?_ ” Danny sounded confused. “ _But the cameras aren't off or anythi- oh_.” Almost immediately after Danny realized what Laura had done, Stiles realized it as well. Sneaky.

“She froze them. So that's how you shitheads got to the Queens' diamonds without a trace.” Stiles nodded, impressed but unwilling to admit it. To anyone. Especially Derek who was on the other side of the glass of the window Stiles was on, where Stiles was barely hanging onto the thick rope and legs spread wide open with his feet solid on the wall for leverage.

“I appreciate the view, Foxy,” Derek said, and Stiles didn't need to see his face to know he was smirking, “but are you coming?”

Once again, Stiles flipped him off. “It's a race, idiot. You're not supposed to wait for me.” He got the window open just as Derek reached the door to the stairwell, and he slipped inside the dark hallway, detaching himself from the rope and pulling the silenced gun from the holster at his hip.

Derek only shot him a quick glance, his head snapping around, before he slipped into the stairwell. Stiles followed right behind him, and he did not look at his ass. Not even once, definitely not twice.

The stairwell was empty, their steps echoing although they were trying to be quiet. It was hard to be when this was a race, when they were rushing to beat the other to the vault in the basement, leave their mark, and get out of there unnoticed.

Stiles was two floors down, Derek was just three steps ahead of him on another, when a door opened a few stories below them. The sound of heavy boots against the floor echoed all the way up to them, and Derek whipped around to look at him. Stiles stood frozen for all of a split second, before he quietly rushed over to the door leading out to the hallway of the floor they were on. He looked through the glass, looked to one end of the hallway and the other.

Empty.

Turning back to Derek, he nodded and slowly pushed the door open, slipping inside and holding the door open for Derek. The door only just shut when a beam of light followed by a large security guard came walking up the steps. Stiles pressed himself against the wall, quietly hoping the guard wasn't going to see him or Derek, Derek who was pressed against the wall awfully close next to him.

The guard didn't stop at their floor, kept going up, and Stiles felt like he could breathe again, so he did. “It's a lot harder without an eye ahead,” he whispered, leaning slightly into Derek for a moment, before he shook out his nerves and moved to go back to the stairwell.

Except Derek grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Do you really think it's a good idea to go back in there? Guard's probably coming right back down any minute now.” He tugged on Stiles' arm, tugging him along down the hallway.

Stiles ripped his arm out of Derek's grip, rolling his eyes. “What part of a race don't you get?” His whisper had become a lot less of one. “Are you trying to let me win? 'Cause I really don't appreciate that. I can win fine on my own, thank you very much.”

He could hear the groan behind him followed by rushing but quiet footsteps. “If you get caught this early, neither of us make it to the vault,” Derek continued. “And keep your voice down, someone might be on this floor.”

“Well, now that you've jinxed us, yeah. Now there's absolutely gonna be someone on this floor, thanks dumbass.”

They only just made it into view of the other door leading to the stairwell on the other side of the building, when both of them froze at the sound of a printer running. A printer running followed by heels against the floor. Heels coming their way.

They looked at each other, and neither thought twice when they hurried into the supply closet just a bit further down the hallway. Stiles didn't know whether that had been a good or a bad idea. Good because whoever was wearing heels coming their direction wouldn't catch them. Bad because now he had Derek's everything pressed against him, and it did not help the attraction he was already feeling for his rival.

“Oh great,” Stiles groaned, trying really hard to back further into the room, so his front wouldn't be pressed against Derek's, and so that he couldn't feel Derek's breath so close to his face despite the masks. “I didn't exactly expect to ever jump back _into_ the closet, but alright.”

Derek snorted, or maybe huffed, Stiles couldn't really tell with the mask blocking most of the sound. “Laugh all you want, big guy,” Stiles whispered, suddenly feeling very defensive. “I'm very bi and very proud.”

“Trust me, I'm not laughing,” Derek whispered back, his eyes darting away from Stiles' for just a second. “I didn't exactly expect to be back in the closet either.” When Stiles gave him a confused look, he continued. “Pansexual. And very proud too.”

“Oh.” Stiles ignored the pang of excitement and relief in his chest, pushed it away and reminded himself of their rivalry. “Well, I'm glad we could come out of the closet while hiding in a closet.” He sighed. “Are they gone yet?”

Derek leaned back a little, nearly pressing the side of his face to the door. He listened carefully for several seconds, then nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” As he turned around to slip out of the door, his hip and nearly his ass brushed over Stiles' crotch, and Stiles had to hold his breath and think of dead puppies, before he followed him out.

Getting down to the first floor was easy after that. They only had to wait for one other guard to walk out of the hallway on the third floor, and they had to keep low when passing the doors, since there were still a few bankers and douches in suits working a late night. They stood at the top of the stairs leading to the basement, both standing still and both looking down the steps.

“I'm so gonna win, Blue Balls,” Stiles said, a grin on his lips behind the mask. He put the silenced gun back into its holster and turned to Derek. “I'm gonna win this one and the next until you and your little wolf pack get your shit and leave this town.”

“That's not going to happen,” Derek said beside him, attention behind them. “Besides, we're criminals. Criminals stick together.”

Stiles scoffed. “ _Outlaws_ , not criminals.” Derek shot him a look, so Stiles groaned and dramatically threw his arms up. “Alright, fine. We're criminals. But that doesn't mean we have to stick together. Like at all.”

Derek was quiet for a moment. “What if I want to?”

“Then that sucks for you, 'cause I don't do teamwork with people who punched me in the face and has made me sexually frustrated- wait no.” Stiles quickly turned to Derek, eyes wide and a hand half hovering over his masked mouth. “You didn't hear that. Forget I ever said that, nothing like that ever happened.”

“Sexually frustrated?” Derek's smirk was audible in his voice, as was the smugness in the way he took a small step closer to Stiles.

Stiles groaned maybe a bit too loud and pushed at Derek, turning back to the stairs to the basement. “Shut up and count down, so I can get to beat your ass in this dumb race.”

Derek looked at him for a moment, then he turned and got ready to run just like Stiles, counting down slowly. And when he reached zero, they ran.

Somehow Stiles was faster than Derek. Maybe because he used to run a lot when he was on the lacrosse team back in high school, maybe because he was sprinting, refusing to let Derek win this one. Whatever it was, he was faster, and he made it to the end of the basement where the vault was locked first. He rushed to put his mark there, stuck it to the wall right next to the vault, and then he rushed to turn around, nearly fell over his own feet as he ran. Ran past Derek and flipped him off, as he broke into laughter.

“Wolf,” he said as he ran up the stairs and onto the ground floor. “Start the car and get ready. I'm on my way.”

There was only one guard by the front door of the building, one guard who didn't see him run by and out the door. He had expected it to be locked, but it wasn't, and he couldn't help the laugh of triumph as he ran into the street and jumped into the car picking him up.

They were only a bit down the street, when Stiles saw Derek run out the building and jump into the car Boyd was driving. “Oh my God, Scott!” he yelled and slapped his brother's arm. “I won! I fucking won!”

Stiles was still riding the high when they reached back to the Cave and when Derek walked through the door, mask off, his hair tousled, and sweat formed on his forehead. Had it not been because Stiles wanted to brag, he would have been stunned by how good Derek looked like that.

But he wanted to brag, and he was in Derek's space, grinning widely at him, the second he stepped inside. “I told you I'd kick your ass, Hale,” he said, slapping at his chest. “And you got your ass so kicked, I bet it's sore now.” He ignored the groans from around him and threw his arms up, the grin wide and toothy. “Hell yeah!”

He was too busy celebrating and bragging at every part of the Hale team – except for Boyd and Erica, he didn't want to get punched – to see the way Derek was looking at him.

He missed the almost fond look Derek was giving him, but everyone else didn't.

**{ x }**

Spending his Saturday afternoon at his old house wasn't exactly how Stiles saw himself spending any part of his weekend at all, and yet there he was. Parking in front of the same house he had stormed out of not that long ago. There was no police cruiser in sight, no sign of authorities, only Melissa's car in the garage, so maybe he wasn't there to get arrested.

Which could only mean one of two things: either his dad was dying or he was in some serious trouble with his parents.

Stiles found himself hoping it was the latter, because while he and his dad weren't close and their relationship was awkward and tense, he didn't want to lose both his biological parents. Getting over his mom's death was hard enough, and he hadn't been that old, hadn't known her for long.

He stood in front of the front door, heart pounding against his ribs and nerves high. He swallowed thickly, let out a breath, and brought a closed fist up to knock on the wood. He took half a step back just before the door opened and his dad appeared.

His dad looked at him, gave him a once over. “Wasn't sure you'd come,” he said, stepped to the side to let Stiles in.

Stiles shrugged and went inside with a sigh passing his lips. “Kind of had to come, dad. A 911 text usually means an emergency, but not this time.” He turned around to give his dad a look just as the door closed. “Apparently.”

“This is an emergency,” his dad stated firmly, guiding Stiles into the living room where Melissa was seated, a completely done look on her face.

Stiles looked at her for a moment, then at his dad, and then he snorted. “Is this an intervention?” He groaned loudly when his dad nodded, and he threw his arms up. “Oh my God, dad, I don't need a fucking intervention!”

“Hey, watch your language!” There was a warning finger pointed at him. “And you might not think you need one, but you do, Stiles. You've been needing one for years, and I should have given you one a long time ago.”

Stiles groaned in frustration and only just paid Melissa getting up from her seat any attention. “No, I really don't need an intervention. I don't need my own dad to tell me how much of an idiot and moron I am. You don't need to say a goddamn word, because I already know that! I already know _everything_ you're going to say, and I don't need to hear any of it! I need my dad to be there for me, but you're never here for me. You haven't been since mom died, so no wonder I've been lying to you for so long.”

“I've been here plenty for you, Stiles.” His dad had raised his voice, and it made Stiles feel like he was young again, getting in trouble for the first time. Except the tone in his dad's voice was a lot harsher than it had been when he was younger. “I've been here, waiting for you to turn your life around. Waiting for you to stop being a criminal, because I can't support that, and you should know that. I was the sheriff, Stiles. I can't support my own flesh and blood breaking the laws I spend _years_ upholding.”

Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing his arms out. “Then why am I not in jail yet?” He waited, but his dad went quiet. “You could have ratted me out to the cops and gotten me thrown in jail the second any of this started, but you didn't. So obviously you're not as angry with me as you say you are, and I don't even get _why_ you're angry. Yeah, I'm breaking laws, but it's not like I've killed anyone!”

The look he got for that wasn't as angry as it was disappointed. “You may not have killed anyone yet, but you steal from people. The Queens, the Pendragons, God knows how many more. You probably don't have count on the people you've stolen from. You steal from banks, museums, you name it. That's not okay, and I won't support it.”

“First of all, I didn't steal shit from the Queens. That was a whole other group of outlaws, bunch of shitheads. Second of all, I only steal from rich snobs with way too much money anyway. They don't need all of it. I'm basically a modern day Robin Hood.”

There was a beat of silence, then Melissa spoke up. “Robin Hood gave to the poor. Do you do that?”

Stiles looked at her, his mouth open for a moment before he spoke. “Well... I'm poor and I give to myself, so technically yes?”

Both Melissa and his dad gave him a look, so Stiles sighed and dropped his shoulders. “Alright, so I'm not a good guy, so what? You've got Scott to be your Golden Boy. One child has to be a disappointment, that's the rules, and look at that. You've got me to be disappointed in.” He put on a fake smile, forcing it to appear. “Good for you guys. Can I leave now?”

His father shook his head shortly, bringing his arms up to cross. “No, we're not done talking about this.”

“There's nothing to talk about!” Stiles yelled, his frustration growing by the second. “I know what I'm doing is wrong, but I'm not going to stop doing it. It's what I do, and I'm good at it. So you can continue to tell me to stop and be disappointed in me all you want, but it's not going to change a damn thing.”

Neither of his parents said a word, Melissa with a hand on his dad's arm, and his dad fuming with anger, so Stiles continued. “I'm sorry that I can't be the son you want me to be, but that's just not who I am.” He stepped back, nodding once shortly. “You can call the cops on me all you want, have me arrested, I don't care anymore.”

For the second time in less than a month, Stiles stormed out of there. Last time he was more sad than anything. This time he was frustrated, a heavy feeling in his chest.

He was well aware that what he was doing was wrong, knew that he couldn't be doing this for the rest of his life. But he was good at it, and after spending so long being good at nothing, the criminal activities in his life was what gave him purpose. Without the adrenaline pumping through his veins, he was a nobody. And he was willing to lose his family and be on the run if it meant being somebody, if it meant having a purpose in life.

That was how Stiles had thought for years, how Malia had told him to feel when they started. Now he was starting to question it. But like an addict, he had no plans on actually stopping despite knowing how bad it was for him.

Stiles was halfway home to the apartment he knew would be empty – Malia had been spending more time at Kira's than at the apartment – when he realized he had forgotten most of his stuff at the Cave. Most of his stuff meaning the bag with his laptop, private files with dirt on people, and various other stuff. Groaning in frustration, he turned the jeep around and headed for the outskirt of Beacon Hills.

He didn't know whether to be surprised or annoyed that a black Camaro was parked in front of the abandoned building he called base. Honestly he was neither surprised nor annoyed at the Hales hanging out there. It wasn't like he really hated them anymore, even though his brain told him to hate them with the burning passion he had when they waltzed into the town like they owned it.

And that was what annoyed him. It annoyed him that suddenly he was okay with the thought of having the Hales around, maybe working with them. He was annoyed of his growing feelings for Derek, feelings that had been merely attraction at first but somehow had started to become feelings, a crush.

It was annoying, and he wasn't even sure what to do about them. Either he had to throw in the towel and admit that he didn't mind working with them like everyone else on his team wanted to, or he had to watch them leave town and never see them again.

He hated himself for how much the thought of never seeing Derek again hurt, how much his heart ached. When did that happen?

Frustration high and a million thoughts running through his head, Stiles jumped out of the jeep and walked into the building. It was silent save for a few talking voices from the basement. He couldn't make out what they said, but that was mostly because he wasn't really listening, too busy listening to the millions of thoughts making his head hurt.

He had taken exactly one step down the stairs to the basement, when the voices stopped. He lifted his gaze from his own feet and looked over at where Derek and Erica were seated, both sets of eyes trained on him, and if he wasn't too busy with everything else, he would probably have noticed the embarrassed look on Derek's face.

Stiles scoffed, rolled his eyes, and hurried down the stairs. “Make yourselves at home, why don't you?” He smiled tightly at the both of them, quickly grabbed his bag, and then he hurried back out of there.

He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Or maybe he would wait for Scott to be done at the hospital, so he could have a moment with his brother. That always seemed to help, even if it was just for a little bit.

The ride home felt a lot longer than it usually did. Traffic wasn't that bad, rush hour wasn't for another several hours, and most people were at work or at school at this time of the day. But time moved slowly, and Stiles was getting impatient.

And like the day couldn't get any worse, who was waiting for him in front of his apartment door? No one other than his very own father.

Stiles let out a heavy sigh and let his arms fall heavily along his sides. “Are you here to yell at me again? Or are you here to take me to the station and turn me in?” He stepped forward, pulling the keys from his pocket. “Because either way, I'm not in the mood.” Pushing his dad aside, he went inside and left the door open. If he closed the door on the man, it would only make things worse.

“Stiles.” He listened to the door close behind him, knew his dad had stepped inside, and for a moment there he was scared. He was scared when he felt a hand grab his arm, and he was scared when he was forced to turn around.

Except instead of the punch he had expected, he suddenly had a face full of shoulder and two arms hugging him tightly. He was stunned, confused, and surprised all at once. It had been so long since someone last embraced him, _years_ since his dad had last hugged him, so he wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to react.

Slowly, after his dad squeezed him closer, Stiles found his own arms wrap around his old man, slowly returning the hug. It felt good, safe, and he hadn't realized how much he had missed the man who raised him. Despite all the fighting, this was still his dad and he loved him.

“I don't approve of what you're doing,” came his dad's tight and whispering voice after a minute of hugging. “But I don't want to lose you, Stiles. I can't lose you too.”

Stiles swallowed down the lump in his throat and nodded slowly against the firm shoulder. “You won't lose me, dad. You won't.”

His dad gave him one more squeeze, before he pulled back, grabbed his shoulders, and looked at him. “I better not. You're too important to me. You're my son and I love you. I know you think I hate you and that I'm disappointed in you, but I'm not. I'm scared of losing you. Am I happy you're living your life as a criminal? No, of course I'm not. But there's nothing in this world that I won't do to protect you.”

Stiles felt the corners of his lips tug back a little, felt the heavy feeling lift from his heart slowly. “Did Melissa make you change your mind?”

His dad laughed, short and with his head shaking. “No. She just made me realize what I've always been feeling.”

“Really? Always?” Stiles raised a brow at him. “Dad, you threatened to arrest me at least a hundred times.”

“That was for your own good, and I would do it again if I had the authority.” His dad squeezed his shoulder lightly, offering it a pat, before they stepped apart. “I just don't want you to get hurt.”

“Well,” Stiles put on a smile, a smile he didn't have to force on. “I promise I won't do anything too reckless.”

**{ x }**

Stiles wasn't exactly sure what had happened, what had gone wrong. One moment he was breaking into a place for the third challenge, and the next he was jumping into the get away car, yelling at Scott to start driving, the cops right on their tail as they sped out of there.

“Ariel, find us a way out!” Scott yelled as he pulled the car to a street on the right, the sirens and deputies yelling for them to stop and surrender loud behind them. “Guys, you might wanna take out your guns!” he called to Malia and Stiles in the back.

Malia was already loading her gun, ducking down between the seats to get a view of the pursuing cruisers, when Lydia's reply came through their earpieces. “ _Working on it. Do you have eyes on the others_?”

“Blue bailed,” Stiles replied, his heart pounding hard in his chest. He looked around in a rush but saw nothing but red and blue flashes around them. “Can't see Yellow's car. They probably got out of here. Be on look out for-”

He was interrupted at the sound of a gun firing right next to him and glass shattering behind him. “Coyote!” he yelled as soon as Malia let go of the trigger. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Malia shrugged and gave him a glance. “Relax, I'm not trying to kill them.” She turned back to the shattered back window, aiming her gun. “Trying to take out their tires, so we can get out of here. I'd prefer if it wasn't in a body bag, an ambulance or handcuffs!”

The gunfire coming from the cruiser right on their tail had all three ducking down, and Stiles groaned loudly. “And now they're shooting back at us!” he yelled, smacking Malia's shoulder. “I don't know about you, but I don't really want to get shot!”

Malia took her eyes off the gun in her hands to give her partner in crime a look, her brows low over her eyes and annoyance clear on her face now that they had pushed the masks up. “We're not gonna get shot, relax.” She reloaded her gun and leaned forward, moving in between the seats. “And if one of them gets shot, too bad.” There was a pause in the shooting from the deputies, and she took the opportunity to shoot back, hitting the cruiser's headlight.

Stiles could faintly hear one of the deputies yell into his radio, requesting backup, and he sighed, getting his own gun out. “If I get shot, it's your fault,” he said, not loud enough to be heard over the firing gun to his left.

He leaned to the right and aimed his gun between the seat and the car door. “Wolf, stay low and keep yours eyes on the road!” he yelled, before he pulled the trigger. He didn't hit anything other than the hood of the cruiser. Neither him nor Malia had a good shot of the tires. This wasn't going to work.

“I can't get a good shot on them!” Malia yelled, pulling back to reload a few minutes after. “Wolf, can you get some distance between them and us?”

Scott turned the wheel, sped onto the road to the left. The cruiser behind them slowed down to not crash in the turn, but there wasn't much distance between them for long. Scott threw his head back to see if it had worked, and he groaned when he saw the result. “Doesn't look like it, no!” he yelled at the two in the back, hunching back in front of the wheel.

Stiles pulled back and leaned heavily against the seat, scooting down to hide. “Ariel, please tell me you found us a way out!” His heart was pounding hard in his chest, and his mind was running wild. He didn't see how they could get out of there without killing a few of the deputies pursuing them. And he may be a criminal, but he wasn't a killer.

“ _DM is working on it. Hang in there_ ,” Lydia told them, her voice trembling slightly. Stiles didn't need to see her to know she was panicking but pretended she wasn't. He knew Lydia, and he knew she was doing everything she could to find them a way out.

With determination in her eyes, Malia moved back between the seats and crawled to the seats behind them. Except she didn't get further than halfway there, before a gun fired from the cruiser on their tail, and Malia cursed loudly. She only just managed to get herself behind a seat, when another bullet flew by her, hitting the front window.

She was groaning and clutching her shoulder when Stiles looked over at her, and he noticed blood seeping through her fingers. “Fuck,” he let out in a breath and hurriedly leaned over to her, only to quickly pull back when a bullet nearly hit him. “They shot Ma- Coyote!”

Stiles saw Scott whip his head around from the front seat, saw him shrug off his jacket and throw it at Stiles. “Tie it around her shoulder and Coyote,” Scott caught Malia's eyes, her eyes full of pain, “keep putting pressure on it, can you do that?”

Malia nodded rapidly, sweat forming on her forehead and her front teeth digging into her lower lip, as she pushed her bloody hand hard against her injured shoulder. Stiles went as low as he possibly could as he crawled over the seats to sit in Malia's lap, keeping both of them low and out of view from the cops.

“Is there an exit wound?” Scott asked from the front.

Stiles gave Malia an apologetic look, before he moved a hand behind her shoulder and started feeling around, ignoring how Malia groaned in pain from the touch. He nodded, relieved, when his fingers found the exit wound. “Yeah, bullet went right through!”

“Okay, good.” Scott and took another turn, Malia groaning when she was send to one side, but Stiles grabbed her and sat her back up, before he tied Scott's jacket under her arm and around her shoulder, putting Malia's blood coated hand back for pressure on it. “Kitsune,” Scott continued from the front, “go to my place and grab the emergency first aid kit in the bathroom. We're gonna need it. And Ariel, please find a way out quickly.”

“ _I might have found a way out_ ,” Lydia replied a second later, the panic faded from her voice. “ _Hang in there for a little bit more_.”

There were still bullets being fired at them, gunshots loud, bullet holes everywhere inside and probably more outside. Stiles grabbed Malia's loaded gun and leaned to the right, eyes on the pursuing deputies. He didn't have a shot to take out the tiers, but he did have perfect view of the deputies, so he aimed and fired. The first three shots he missed, but the fourth he hit the passenger in the arm. It wasn't an injury big enough for the deputy to stop shooting, but it was a big enough distraction for the gunfire to stop for just a moment.

“ _Get ready to floor it_.” That wasn't Lydia or Danny's voice speaking in his ear. No, that was Isaac.

Stiles and Scott shared a quick look, before they both looked to their right. And saw Derek roll down the window of Isaac's car and lean out with his gun already aimed at the cruiser right behind them, wolf mask hiding his face. Stiles couldn't help the relieved laugh that escaped him, and he smiled widely when Derek turned to look over at him.

Derek lifted his free hand shortly in greeting, before his attention was back on the deputies and he fired his gun. One, two, three shots and the right front and right back tire were taken out. The cruiser came to a halt with a loud noise of metal against concrete, the deputies yelling for the other cruisers to overtake them.

“I thought you bailed, Blue Balls,” Stiles said into his microphone, as he watched Derek slide back into the car and sit down next to a grinning Isaac.

Derek lifted his mask and smiled at him. He wasn't grinning, no. This was more of a fond smile. “ _I'd never leave you behind, Foxy_.”

Stiles let a smile form on his lips, and he opened his mouth to make a sarky comment. But he didn't get a chance, because then another cruiser rolled up behind them and the passenger deputy fired his gun, the bullet hitting Stiles' arm.

It didn't go through, not like it had with Malia. The bullet just scraped his arm, and he cursed loudly, slapping a hand over where his sleeve had ripped, his skin split. “Fucking shit!” he yelled and leaned back against the passenger seat in the front, clutching his arm.

He closed his eyes and bit his lips as pain surged through his arm, but he didn't miss how quick Derek was to react. Derek was leaning out the window and shooting at the cruiser's tires the second after Stiles had been hit. Malia grabbed the gun from Stiles and did her best to lean to the side and distract their pursuers, while Derek took out the tires.

The front tire popped, when Scott threw the two a look. “Coyote!” And there was the strict nurse voice. “Stop shooting and put pressure on your shoulder!” He turned back as both him and Isaac turned down the road, trying to put distance between them and the last working cruiser. “Fox, can you still shoot?”

Stiles groaned and slowly lifted his hand from the gaping wound in his arm. It wasn't bad, the pain just made his arm numb when it wasn't throbbing. Nodding, he took the gun from Malia. “Yeah, but not well.”

“ _I've got a way out for you_ ,” came Danny's voice in their ears after Stiles had fired a shot, the bullet piercing nothing but the road behind them. “ _Take out the cruiser, then follow my directions_.”

Derek couldn't get to the front tires, so he aimed for the back right, more bullets hitting the road than the car itself, and Stiles tried to take out one of the front tires, aiming as well as he could. Which wasn't that well, considering he was using his left hand and he was not a lefty. But Derek managed to hit the back tire after a minute, and the deputies cursed loudly as their cruiser became uncontrollable.

Stiles could only sigh with relief when the sound of sirens wailing became a distant sound. While Danny told Scott to take a right further up the road, he told Isaac to take a left, and Stiles turned his head to see Derek looking back at him. He couldn't see the concern in the man's eyes, not from this distance, but he put on a smile and raised a thumb, before he put the hand over the wound on his arm, his head resting back on the front passenger seat.

When they pulled up to the Cave twenty minutes later, car a broken wreck with bullet holes scattered over the back and sides, there were no Derek and Isaac in sight. Scott hurriedly carried Malia inside, Kira already waiting with a worried look on her face by the entrance, and Stiles grabbed the guns and walked inside, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his arm.

“Kira, get the first aid kit,” Scott said as he rushed downstairs, Malia doing her best to keep pressure on her bleeding shoulder and her best not to look like she was in too much pain, because she never wanted to admit that.

Patching Malia up was first priority, her injury and bleeding the worst, so Stiles gave Allison the guns, grabbed what he needed, and stepped out of the way. He could patch himself up. It wouldn't be the first time, and this time wasn't even that bad. He had had worse.

He looked over at where Kira was helping Malia out of her ruined shirt, Malia's face screaming pain, and as soon as the shirt was off, Kira grabbed her face and pulled her in for a kiss, a kiss that was eagerly returned. Stiles couldn't hear what Kira said but whatever it was, Malia's pain was forgotten for a moment, a soft smile on her lips. He looked away when Scott started patching Malia up, groans, grunts, and curses filling the basement.

Stiles slowly and carefully stripped out of his own ruined and bloody shirt, hissing as fabric brushed over the wound on his arm. It looked a lot worse than it felt like, the skin around the wound red.

He had only just started cleaning the wound, when there were rushed steps coming down the stairs, and Derek came into view, Isaac following close behind. Isaac continued down, but Derek stopped, his eyes scanning the room. And when they landed on Stiles, he let out a relieved breath, his shoulders dropping and his face going soft.

“Take care of the cars,” Derek told Boyd, patting his shoulder lightly a he passed him, eyes locked onto Stiles. He wasn't trying to hide it when his eyes dropped to Stiles' bare torso, nor did he even try to hide the small grin that tugged his lips back. “You're welcome for saving your life.”

Stiles scoffed at him, and he shook his head, before he dropped his gaze back onto the wound he was cleaning. “You're an asshole and a show off, Derek, did you know that? We could totally have taken care of it by ourselves, and you know what?” He lifted his head, a smile on his lips and the bloody cloth waving at Derek. “We have. Before you assholes came to this town and decided to make it yours.” His smile softened a little, and he moved the cloth back to the wound. “But... thanks.”

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, the only sound in the room being Malia groaning and cursing and Scott telling her to sit still. Then Derek stepped closer and held out a hand. “Come on, let me help patch you up.”

Stiles' brows crawled up his forehead, and his eyes scanned Derek's soft face for a moment. “Are you serious?” Derek gave him a look, so he laughed and slapped the wet and bloody cloth into his held out hand. “Well, I'm not gonna say no to that.”

Stiles sat himself onto the table behind him, and Derek stepped between his legs as he gently grabbed his arm, holding just under the wound. He carefully dabbed around the wound, washing away the blood and dirt.

It was weird how not weird this was. To have someone Stiles had considered an enemy no more than a few weeks ago take care of a wound. It was weird because Derek didn't feel like an enemy anymore. He felt like a part of the team – and more. Stiles found himself staring at Derek's lips, the urge to lean forward and capture them with his own ridiculously big. He wanted to kiss him not only because the guy had practically saved his life, but also because Stiles had thought he was going to die there for a second, and what better time to kiss someone than after thinking that?

Stiles was still staring at Derek's lips, when Derek looked back at him, the soft patting of the cloth slowing down until it came to a complete halt. He looked at him, watched him for a moment, before his eyes dropped to his lips. It was then that Stiles snapped his eyes back to Derek's soft, hazel eyes and his heart started pounding in his chest.

He wasn't sure if Derek actually did lean forward a bit or if that was just his imagination, but the nerves rushed over him, and he sat up straight, putting on a half smile. “So, what's with the wolf mask?”

Derek looked almost disappointed, a smile growing on his lips anyway. The smile quickly turned sad, and he looked back at the wound as he proceeded cleaning it. “My mom loved wolves,” he explained, wiping carefully below the less violent looking wound. “I carry her with me everywhere with that mask.”

Stiles' smile faded quickly, and the throbbing pain that surged through his arm when Derek carefully dabbed at the dirty wound was ignored. “I'm sorry about your family.”

Derek shrugged, putting the cloth down and grabbing a new and clean one. “I've still got Cora and Laura. And Erica, Boyd, and Isaac are my family now too.”

“And Braeden?” No one had heard from her for months, but Stiles did remember her saying she worked with the Hales.

Derek cast him a look, his brows saying just about everything. “I have to pay for her to even talk to me. I wouldn't exactly consider her my family, no.”

Stiles nodded slowly, pursing his lips and tapping a finger against Derek's chest lightly. “Excellent point, she'd be one hell of an expensive family member.” He turned his head and looked down at the a lot cleaner wound. “Wow, you're good at that. You think it'll need stitches?”

Derek nodded his head after a moment of looking the wound, dabbed the cloth against the wound a few more times, slowing down when Stiles hissed and tensed. “Probably. Let Scott do that. He can do it better.” He paused for just a moment. “It'll definitely leave a scar though.”

Stiles snorted lightly. “Yeah, scars kind of come with the job, dude. Got a few already.” He gestured down at his torso, gestured at the long, thick scar below his belly button and the various other scars that were hard to see on his pale skin.

He tried not to blush when Derek's eyes dropped and wandered over his bare torso, and he chose to ignore the tip of Derek's tongue sticking out to wet his lips for a second. He knew he was breathing heavily, but he blamed it on the pain surging through his arm and not because he was nervous about Derek standing so close and watching him so carefully.

Derek reached out and lightly traced his fingers along the scar under his belly button, fingers brushing the thick happy trail, and Stiles held his breath, letting his skin flush but refusing to let his blood rush south like he was sure it would. Derek's hand was way too close to his dick after all.

“How'd you get this?” Derek asked, his eyes moving from the scar to meet Stiles' eyes. He didn't remove his fingers though, kept the touch light, fingers lingering over the scarred skin.

Stiles swallowed thickly, his eyes firmly on Derek's. If he ignored the way his whole body flushed hard enough, maybe Derek wouldn't notice it. “Knife,” he said. “Guy was crazy. He thought he was a demon. I'm not kidding, he actually thought that.” He shook his head. “It actually wasn't that bad. Hurt like a bitch, but I got to order people around for a month. I prefer to be on the field, but being the boss is pretty great too. Once in a while.”

A small smile tugged at Derek's lips, the smile almost a grin as it grew, and there was a playful glint in his eyes. “Bet you're good at being bossy. Or annoying. Then again,” he dropped his hand to Stiles' thigh, “you're always annoying.”

Stiles ignored the heavy weight on his thigh and instead made a face at Derek. “Shut up, you love it.” Derek said nothing, his one brow cocking and the playful glint still in his eyes. Stiles inhaled slowly through his nose and was quick to change the subject. As much as he would love to get to make out with Derek, he didn't want the first time to be in a room where both their teams could see them.

“You got any scars?” he asked, his eyes flicking down to Derek's clothed body for a moment.

He could feel Derek's eyes on him, saw the grin coming before it grew. “You trying to get me out of my clothes, Stiles?”

Stiles scoffed softly, matching Derek's grin with one of his own. “Well, it'd only be fair. I'm sitting here half naked and injured.”

Derek stood there for a moment, before he lifted the hand on Stiles' thigh, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and pulled up, revealing not only incredible abs but a big, circular scar on the right side of his abdomen right under his ribs. “Metal pole. Straight through me.”

Stiles' jaw dropped, and he looked at Derek for a moment, before his attention dropped to the scar, and he reached out to touch it not as gently at Derek had touched his scar. Or maybe that was just an excuse to touch Derek's abs. “Are you kidding? How does that even happen?”

Stiles felt Derek tense under his touch, but it didn't show on his face. “Got in a fight with this woman a few years ago. Long story short, she won.”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something back, but he didn't get to make anything but the sound of the beginning of a word, before Scott interrupted them. “Hey guys?” Stiles quickly removed his hand from Derek's abs and leaned a bit back, eyes now on his brother. There was blood on Scott's gloved hands, and he was slowly and carefully peeling off the medical gloves. “Are you finished patching up?”

“Uh yeah, almost.” Scott was staring at him very pointedly, obviously trying to telepathically communicate. Stiles could guess what he was trying to say. He reached over to grab the bandages, only to find Derek having already grabbed it. He lifted his arm a little, biting back any sounds of pain as pressure was put on his bullet wound.

When the upper part of his arm was wrapped, nicely so, Stiles patted Derek's chest and hopped down from the table, maneuvering around him. “Thanks, big guy.” He grabbed the dirty and bloody cloths and everything else they had used to clean up and went to walk away.

While doing his best to avoid the judgmental look coming from Scott.

**{ x }**

The police were on them. They still didn't know who they were, where they were, or any specific details, but they were slowly closing in on descriptions of them. Jackson had told them when deputy Parrish had put more into the on going file, and even Stiles' dad had warned them about the police closing in on them.

So they decided to lay low for a while. Lay low while the heat blew off.

Stiles hated laying low. He got bored too quickly, since he couldn't be out on the field or even sit in the Cave and be the boss. He could do absolutely nothing, and he hated how boredom very quickly overtook him. He had spend the first few days just sleeping, taking care of his wounded arm, and boredom came to him on the fourth day of laying low.

His apartment was empty, since Malia had been spending most of her time with Kira. Lydia was busy spending time with Cora or Allison, occasionally Danny as well. Allison was mostly with her dad since he had decided to stay in town, and when she wasn't with him, she was with Lydia. Danny had gone and gotten himself a proper job while they were laying low. Nothing fancy, the pay shit, but it kept him busy when he could do nothing. Jackson was... well, Stiles didn't care. Even if Jackson did have time, spending time with him would only end in disaster. He didn't even give Derek or any of the other Hales a thought. Okay, admittedly he did, but he wasn't going to hang out with any of them. He was too stubborn.

Which only left Scott to take care of his boredom for him.

Sure, Scott was busy at the hospital, having taken on some extra shifts now that he had the time, but it wouldn't be the first time Stiles came to bother him during work hours, and while Scott had complained about it several times in the past, that didn't stop him from driving over to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital.

The place wasn't super busy, never really was. There had been a few times where they had been swamped, and every nurse and doctor were running around the place, hurrying from one patient to the other. This was not one of those times. A few people sat waiting for someone to treat them, most just looking more uncomfortable than in pain.

Stiles smiled at one of the nurses – her name was Heather. Stiles had known her when they were kids, but they hadn't kept in contact after they went to different high schools – when she looked over at him. “Hey, Heather,” he greeted, resting his elbows on the counter and smiling sweetly at her. “You wouldn't know where Scott is right now, would you?”

Heather gave him a look, before she laughed in a quick huff. “I think Scott has better things to do, Stiles.”

“Nothing is better than hanging out with me,” Stiles said, his brows raising and his smile growing. When Heather just looked blankly at him, he sighed and leaned heavily against the counter. “Come on, just tell me. I really need to talk to him.”

Heather chewed on it for a moment, considering it. She then sighed and turned to the hospital computer. Stiles did a short fist pump to himself, grinning widely. “He should be in 314.”

“Heather, you're the best.” Stiles patted the counter and gave her another smile, before he turned and headed for the elevator, walking around an old man limping along the hall.

Stiles had spend more time at the hospital than any 25 year old should have. First he had broken his arm when he was 6 and reckless. Then it had been his mom, and now it was to visit Scott. And occasionally Melissa when he needed motherly advice, and she was busy at work.

The elevator doors slid open, and Stiles stepped onto the third floor. There weren't as many people there as there had been on the first floor. Patients were in their rooms, and it were only nurses and doctors going from room to room, looking either tired or stressed out but hiding both.

Stiles had only just walked past room 308, when he spotted Scott coming out of a room further down the hall. “Scotty my man!” he called, raising a hand to wave when Scott turned to look at him. At Scott's shoulders dropping as he sighed, Stiles grinned widely and jogged over to him, only just avoiding running into a brunette nurse.

“Stiles.” Scott dropped the clipboard in his hand against his leg. “I'm a little bit busy today. I know you're bored, but we can hang out after my shift.” He turned to continue down the hall, and Stiles didn't hesitate to fall into step with him. “You can ask any of the others to hang out if you're really that bored by your own company.”

Stiles slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, sighing dramatically. “Everyone else is either busy with their partner or being an adult, so no. I can't ask any of the others. Not unless I want to be the awkward third wheel or be annoying while they work.”

Scott shot him a look. “But you have no problem annoying me while I work?”

“You're my brother, Scott,” Stiles said with a shrug. “It's different with you. I get to annoy you, 'cause that's what brothers do, so suck it up.”

Scott huffed and stopped at the nurse's station. “Then why don't you hang out with Derek?” He grabbed a pen from the desk and scribbled down something on the clipboard.

Stiles made a face at him, leaning back against the counter. “Why the hell would I hang out with Derek?”

“Well, you guys are together, right?” Scott glanced at his brother, a playful grin on his lips at Stiles' horrified face. “I saw you when he was helping you the other day. It definitely looked like you were together. And apparently he talks about you a lot.”

“What?” Stiles exclaimed, earning an annoyed grunt from an old man who had fallen asleep in the hallway. “What does he say? I mean, who- who told you that?”

“Erica, Laura, Isaac, just to name a few.” Scott looked back down at the clipboard, crossing something out. “Apparently he likes you a lot. Which isn't that surprising, 'cause I've seen the way he looks at you. He obviously cares about you. Did you see how worried he was when you were hit? And I know you like him too.”

Stiles scoffed. “I do not like him. He's an asshole, I hate him.” It was a lie and he knew it. He just didn't want to admit that he actually did like Derek, didn't want it to be real. Their competition may have slowly turned into friendship and teamwork, but he didn't want to fall for Derek if Derek wasn't going to stay in Beacon Hills.

“Sure you do.” The playful grin fell from Scott's lips, and he looked up at him, suddenly serious. “But be careful, okay? I know we're basically on the same team now, but I don't really trust him.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. And you've got nothing to worry about, because I don't like him.” Scott gave him a look of disbelief, and Stiles quickly changed the topic. “Hey, did you know Danny has a boyfriend?”

“The guy he met at Jungle? Yeah, Lydia told me.”

“You know what that means, right?” At Scott's confused look, Stiles grinned widely and bumped his shoulder with Scott's. “It means we're the only single people left in the group, buddy!”

Scott looked at him for a moment, then he slowly dropped his head. “Um, I'm actually not single,” he spoke lowly, murmuring.

“What?” Stiles turned to face Scott, his side leaning against the counter. “Why haven't I met them? Or more importantly, why haven't you told me before now?”

Scott fidgeted with the pen, looking almost embarrassed or maybe ashamed. “Because it's Allison.”

Stiles was quiet, his face going from expressing curiosity to an expression of... well, done would be the right word to describe it. “Are you kidding me? You're dating Allison, again?” He groaned loudly at Scott's nod. “Oh my God, Scott! I feel like I'm back in high school! I can't believe that you've been broken up for years, and then you get back together. It was a disaster the first time, the second time, and it'll probably be a disaster this time too!”

Scott shrugged, finally lifting his eyes from the pen in his hands. “I love her, Stiles.”

“I know you do, buddy. You've loved her since she walked into the classroom for the first time, I know. I know because I've had to listen to you talk about how much you love her for years, and it was annoying. Do you know how often you repeat yourself when talking about Allison? 'Cause it's a lot, and I could probably list everything you love about her, just from having listened to you for _years!_ ”

Scott sighed. “That was when I was a teenager and totally gone on her. But Stiles, I really do love her, and we're going to make it work this time.”

Stiles looked at his brother for a moment, could tell that he was serious. He had been serious the other times as well, but this time it seemed... different. So Stiles sighed and nodded. “Fine. But if it finally works out between you two, I demand to be best man at the wedding.”

Scott smiled at him. “Like there was ever any doubt you're going to be my best man at my wedding.” He lifted his fist, Stiles bumped his own against it, and Scott grabbed the clipboard. “But I really do have a lot of patients. You can hang out here, but don't be annoying.”

“You know me, Scott.” Stiles pulled himself up to sit on the counter, groaning at the throbbing pain that caused in his injured arm. “I'm always annoying.”

While Scott rushed from room to room, Stiles entertained the nurses. Entertained was probably not the right word. He probably annoyed them a little, kept them from doing their jobs, but most of them laughed at his jokes, so he took it as a win. He was told to shut up a few times, but that didn't exactly stop him.

At least two hours passed, before Scott was able to take a break for a few minutes, and Stiles was waiting for him with coffee and a crappy cake from the cafeteria. “Have you talked with your dad yet?” Scott asked before taking a huge bite of the cake.

Stiles sighed and nodded, taking a swig of his own coffee. “Yeah, he called me about a hundred times 'cause he heard about the chase. I got like an hour long lecture, it was ridiculous.”

Scott swallowed down the bite of cake and grabbed the coffee cup. “At least he's turning around now.” He took a swig, licking his lips as he moved the cup back down. “There's going to be a lot of lectures in your future, you know that, right?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “There were already so many lectures before he tried being supportive. Well, they were less lectures and more my dad just yelling at me.” He snorted. “Like yelling at me to do something ever worked.”

“Yeah, you do the opposite of what anyone tells you to do.” Scott shoved the rest of the cake into his mouth and chewed quickly. “Thanks for that, I was starving.” His voice was muffled, mouth full, but Stiles could make out the words.

“Anytime, bro.” Stiles patted Scott's shoulder once or twice. “When you're done with your shift, we're gonna go get some burgers.”

Scott practically moaned as he drank from the coffee cup. “God, I can't wait for that.” He swallowed and drank until the cup was half empty, and then he slapped his hand against Stiles' uninjured arm. “Back to work.”

Stiles found entertainment in other things than the nurses during the rest of Scott's shift. There was a little girl bored in the hallway, and Stiles kept her entertained while her dad was in surgery and her mom was grabbing both of them something to eat. He listened to her talk about everything from her imaginary puppy to the TV show she was watching every morning. Her mom came back, but she didn't stop talking. Only now she was rambling with food in her mouth.

And when she was able to go see her dad, she hugged Stiles and her mom thanked him for keeping her daughter distracted. It was nice.

Scott's shift ended, and Stiles drove them to a nearby diner for burgers, fries, and some brotherly bonding.

**{ x }**

After nearly two weeks of laying low, everyone was starting to get bored. Not just Stiles. Everyone was starting to become restless, and they often just hung out in the Cave planning for their big return. Except planning never became more than ridiculous ideas that they would never be able to actually make happen. Planning became all they talked about, because that was what they always did. That was all they ever did.

They were all getting restless, all in desperate need to get their energy out somehow. Some were lucky to be in a relationship where sex happened, but others were very much single with a lot of energy and nowhere to put it.

Others being Stiles. Stiles didn't do one nights stands either.

Boyd suggested putting some workout equipment in the room in the Cave they didn't use anyway, so they did. It wasn't much. Just a punching bag hung up in the corner, a pole slammed into the wall for pull ups in another corner, a few weights, and... well, that was pretty much it. There was room for improvement, plenty of it.

Stiles found himself using the room a lot. Not for working out, no. His arm still hurt when he moved too much, and he didn't want to risk the healing wound splitting and ruining another one of his shirts. He used the room a lot, because Derek was there. Sometimes a few of the others – mostly Boyd, Malia and Allison – but most of the time it was just Derek.

Derek with his muscular body that Stiles very much appreciated. Derek with his grunts, groans, and huffs. Derek with his bouncy ass when he used the jump ropes Erica had brought in one day or threw punches on the bag in the corner. Derek with his flexing back and arm muscles when he pulled himself up on the pole in the corner, grunting. Derek with his gloriously sweaty body and heavy breathing.

Stiles often found himself sitting in the room and just admiring the view and having a conversation with a sweaty Derek. It helped with the boredom and gave him stuff for when he jerked off in the shower. Not that he would ever admit to that.

A full month of laying low passed, before Stiles could finally use his arm without worrying about pain or the wound splitting open again. He didn't think twice when he got into his workout clothes, hopped into his jeep, and drove straight to the Cave, desperate to get rid of the energy that had been keeping him restless for way too long.

He wasn't surprised to find Derek's black Camaro already parked in front of the building. It had been practically living there for a while now, and Stiles was starting to wonder if Derek even had a place to sleep.

He walked inside and headed for the workout room. He could hear the distant grunts and huffs, knew Derek was probably doing pull ups, because when wasn't he? “Do you ever not work out?” Stiles asked to announce his presence, unzipping his cardigan and letting it fall to the dirty ground.

Derek let out a breathless laugh, did one last pull up, and then dropped himself to the ground, dusting off his hands. “There's not much else to do these days.”

Stiles pulled the strap of his tank top back into place, noticing Derek's eyes sweeping over him. “Finally gonna join me?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he stepped closer.

Stiles nodded and pulled his arms above his head, stretching. “Damn right. You can't keep this place for yourself anymore, big guy. I'm healed and ready to get buff.” He patted Derek's sweaty and firm chest, his palm maybe lingering there for a second too long, before he walked past him and headed over to the weights.

Derek turned, watching him. “Shouldn't you take it easy?” he asked, taking one or two steps closer to where Stiles was bending down to grab a weight. A weight that was a bit too heavy for him. “You haven't worked out for a while, and you're still healing.”

“What are you, my trainer?” Stiles tried to play it off like the weight wasn't too heavy, but his face said it all. He cast Derek one look, before he sighed and dropped the weight, letting it fall to the ground with a heavy thud. “Okay, fine. Be my Yoda. Train me, master.”

Derek's brows jumped, his eyes rolling. “First, stretch out.” Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but Derek raised a hand and continued. “That little stretch you did before? Not enough. You need to warm up.”

Stiles huffed in annoyance but did as he was told. As it turned out, working out with Derek was... fun wasn't the word. It was entertaining and a good time, despite the sweat dripping down his face and his hair sticking to his forehead, his body already aching but pleasantly so. He was going to be hurting the next day, he knew it. But it was worth it, because Derek was close to him, touching him, and he got to see Derek up close without it being weird.

Okay, scratch that. It was weird, because Stiles had to constantly glance down and make sure he wasn't hard. It had been close a few times, once when Derek was touching his leg as he stretched. Stiles was pretty sure Derek was doing it on purpose.

Stiles did a few sit ups. A few meaning four, and then he threw himself down onto the floor, whining loudly. Derek patted his shin and grabbed his feet, telling him to keep going. Stiles did exactly five more, before he had to stop, complaining loudly about his abs burning.

“Okay.” Derek sighed, patting Stiles' leg once, before he got up, holding a hand out to help Stiles up. “Let's try boxing. You're stronger in your arms anyway.”

Boxing was a lot more fun. Stiles hadn't realized just how much he had needed to punch something. Derek stood behind the punching bag, holding it still while Stiles threw punches at it.

They had been going at it for maybe five minutes, sweat covering Stiles' body and dark, wet spots forming on his chest, back, and under his arms, when Stiles broke the silence. “You ever thought about getting out?” He sounded breathless, his eyes firmly on the spot he had been punching. “You know, have a normal life?” He threw a punch, Derek's biceps tensed as he struggled slightly to hold it in place.

Stiles met Derek's eyes for a moment, then Derek spoke, shaking his head lightly against the bag. “No. Never thought I could have that.” He paused a moment, the look he gave Stiles suddenly intense. “Not until a few months ago.”

Stiles held Derek's gaze for several seconds, then looked back at the bag. “I don't think I could ever do it,” he said, throwing another punch. “I'd miss the excitement, the adrenaline.” He shook his head, sighing. “My dad would love it though. And I guess if I found an exciting job, it'd be okay, but... where's the fun in that?”

Derek huffed a laugh and shifted his footing just as Stiles punched, his balance wavering slightly. “I think I'd want to get out one day,” he admitted after a moment's silence. “Maybe do something my mom would like. Criminal life isn't exactly that.”

Stiles paused halfway through punching again, and he snapped his eyes to Derek's softened face. He hesitated, then placed his sweaty and wrapped palms on the bag, eyes on Derek. “The articles I found didn't say much, so uh... what happened to your family?” He noticed the way Derek's brows furrowed, noticed the way he tensed, his jaw clenching. “Sorry, you don't have to tell me anything.”

Derek shook his head, a deep breath leaving him through his nostrils. “No, it's okay.” The shaking turned to nodding as he bopped his head, his eyes moving from the ground to meet Stiles'. “I want to.”

There was a silence hanging over them. It wasn't uncomfortable, wasn't awkward. Stiles could see Derek building up the courage to talk about his deceased family, and for once Stiles forced himself to be quiet. He was curious, yeah, but Derek meant something to him, so he gave him the time he needed.

Derek meant something to him. Stiles wasn't sure when that had happened. He wasn't only physically attracted to him anymore, didn't only want to have crazy, hot sex with the guy. But if he was ever going to get out of criminal life one day? Yeah, he'd want to get out with Derek by his side.

“Her name was Kate,” Derek started, resting his sweaty forehead against the bag lightly, sad eyes on Stiles. “She was an older woman, and I...” He sighed, his gaze dropping. “I fell for her.”

There had been a Kate A. mentioned in one article, the article that closed the case. Stiles watched Derek for a moment, shifting where he stood. “Like, fell in love with her?”

Derek paused, his brows slowly knitting together, before he shook his head. “No. My first girlfriend had just died, and Kate gave me the attention I thought I needed at the time. So I let her use me.” He inhaled slowly, letting it back out in a sigh as he stood up straight. “She burned down the house with my whole family in it. My mom got me, Laura, and Cora out, went back to get the others. She never made it back out.”

Stiles didn't realize his one hand had moved down to lightly touch Derek's, his eyes soft as well as the apologetic smile on his lips. “And Kate got put in jail. For life.”

“Yeah.” Derek nodded, took in a breath, and stepped back, his fingers leaving under Stiles'. “And she'll be rotting in her cell.” He smacked the bag and moved around to Stiles' side. “My turn.”

Stiles raised a hand and put it on Derek's shoulder, offering him a quick smile. “All yours, big guy.” He sighed heavily as he moved away, letting his arms hang loosely by his sides. “I'm not gonna be able to move my arms at all, and that's all on you, Derek.”

He heard the huff, knew there was a smile tugging at Derek's lips, and he heard the thud of knuckles hitting the hard bag. “You needed it.”

“Damn right I did.” Stiles bend down with a groan, picking up his discarded cardigan and wiping the sweat off his forehead. “I'm gonna get some water from upstairs.” He turned just in time to see Derek land a punch that send the bag wobbling backwards. “You want some?”

Derek gave a short and stiff nod. “Yeah, thanks.”

Stiles hurried upstairs, his legs aching as he went up, and his tank top clinging uncomfortably to his sweaty torso. The sweat was cooling off, making him feel sticky and in desperate need of a shower. The shower they had in one of the bathrooms didn't work. Only the bathtub still worked, the bathtub that was used to clean their bloody clothes, weapons, and whatever else. They didn't have much working things in this place, since it was falling apart and they only really needed the basement.

What they did have though was a cooler with water bottles in the ruined bathroom. Kira had put it there the day after Malia had gone to work out with Boyd and Derek and had forgotten to bring water. It turned out to be pretty useful, and Stiles very much appreciated it at the moment, because he had done the exact same thing Malia had.

He crouched down, popped the lid open, and grabbed two bottles of cold water. He quickly took a long and much needed swig of one of them, a satisfied moan passing him once he had swallowed the last bit. His wounded arm throbbed a little, the bandages having gotten slightly bloody. He hadn't noticed that until just then, and he groaned getting up.

When he came back downstairs to the workout room, two bottles in one hand and fresh bandages in the other, Derek was still throwing punches at the bag, the bag wobbling in place and bits and pieces of the ceiling falling down, dirt and dust clouding around him.

And Derek had taken his shirt off, his muscular torso bare and sweaty, chest hair out in the open. Stiles' eyes were immediately on the tattoo on his back, admiring first the way his back muscles tensed, then admired the smooth lines of the tattoo. A black triskele between his shoulder blades, sweat gleaming on the black ink.

His eyes wandered further down, down the curve of Derek's back, and down to his ass. His round ass that, when Derek threw his arm forward and his closed fist made contact with the bag, jiggled slightly in his black sweats.

Stiles had to fight back the boner that desperately wanted to make an appearance in his pants.

**{ x }**

Six weeks of laying low had passed. Danny occasionally gave a sign of life, but apparently he was getting really comfortable and happy at his new work place. Good for him.

Six weeks had passed of not giving the police any new leads, and according to Jackson and his regular updates, the deputies on the case were getting frustrated. Parrish was one of those deputies, and he had been pushing Stiles' dad to give out information. Stiles really thought his dad would out him but no. He hadn't budged and Stiles had felt good, happy that his dad was finally on his side, protecting him.

Danny wasn't the only one slowly moving on from the criminal life. Lydia had started doing the same. She was apparently looking into universities around the country. Cora had looked surprised at that, uncertain and almost sad. But Lydia had grabbed her hand and promised her to take her with her no matter where she went. Laura had cooed at them, had called them cute, and Cora had shot her a warning glare.

Malia and Kira had mentioned wanting to travel the world, explore it and go on adventures. They had even talked about going mountain climbing somewhere in Europe one night. Erica and Boyd, although mostly Erica, had talked about getting married in Paris, maybe live there afterward. Isaac... well, Isaac hadn't said much over the last few weeks. At least not to Stiles.

They were all starting to talk about moving on, and Stiles could feel his heart slowly sinking. Because if everyone moved on, what was he supposed to do? Stay in Beacon Hills living a boring life without his friends? Or get arrested and spend most of his life in jail? He wasn't really up for either.

He just had to remind everyone of the fun they could have when they were reckless. He had to remind them of the rush of adrenaline they got when they did something that wasn't exactly legal.

“We should have a race!” Stiles exclaimed the second he pulled the door open to Erica and Boyd's small apartment in the middle of the city, a wide and excited smile on his face. He may have just seen Need For Speed and the idea had hit him, but it was a good idea. The guys in the movie looked to be having fun, why couldn't they?

“We already had a race, Stiles,” Lydia said without looking up from where she was braiding her girlfriend's hair, Cora's face relaxed.

“Well yeah, but I'm not talking about a foot race through a building full of bankers.” Stiles closed the door and headed inside, swatting at Derek's shoulder to make him scoot over. “I'm talking about an actual race with fast cars.”

“We're supposed to be laying low,” Isaac jumped in, a brow raised at Stiles. “Going out, stealing cars, and having a race around town? Doesn't exactly sound like laying low.”

“Except they won't know it's us,” Stiles shot back, leaning back on the couch. Derek had his arm around the back, and Stiles ignored how domestic this felt. How normal it felt. “Grand theft auto is pretty normal these days and in this town, we're not known for car races, and they won't even see us if we race at night. Perfect plan.”

“So you expect us all to go out and race?” Laura asked from where she was laid out on the other couch next to Erica in Boyd's lap. “And for what purpose? We're not exactly competing anymore. Actually, I'd say we're one, big team now.”

“And it's great that we're all buddy buddies now,” Stiles said, waving his hands around. He lowered them to rest on his thighs shortly after, the back of his right one pushing against Derek's thigh. “But don't you miss the excitement? The adrenaline of being out on the field? 'Cause I know I do.”

Erica hummed softly, tilting her head to rest it against Boyd's. “I have to agree with Stiles. While it's been great to have all this time with my future husband,” she placed her palm on Boyd's chest, a smile tugging at Boyd's lips, “I do kind of miss being out there stirring shit up.”

Stiles put on a smile, pointing over at her. “Knew I could count on you, Catwoman.”

“You know I'm always up for trouble, Batman,” Erica said, a grin forming on her red lips.

“A race could be a nice change of things,” Derek admitted with a few bops of his head.

Stiles snorted, turning to look at him. “Yeah, 'cause you've been holed up in the Cave working out for the past six weeks. No wonder you're in need of a mix up, Derek.”

Derek turned to look back at, impressive brows raised on his forehead. “You've been there with me the whole time. Don't be a hypocrite.”

Stiles gaped at him, ignoring the snorts he heard around them. “I was getting back in shape! You don't need to get any more in shape, dude, you're shredded!”

“Yeah, and you love it,” he heard Scott murmur to a nearly laughing Allison next to him. Stiles whipped around and gave him a warning look, desperately hoping Derek hadn't heard that. But of course he did, because apparently Derek heard everything.

“I think a race could be fun,” Laura said with a nod, and Stiles threw up a fist in celebration. “But we are not all racing, that would be idiotic.”

People in the better, richer part of Beacon Hills had finally started learning. They had finally started locking their cars in their garages, had finally gotten a decent security system on said garages, and they had finally started being careful.

Fortunately for thieves, there were certain idiotic rich people who had yet to learn what everyone else had, and they still left their expensive cars out in the open.

Stiles stole a car for Allison, Allison busy planning the route of the race with Laura and Lydia. Malia stole a car for Scott, while Isaac stole for himself and Derek didn't bother stealing any, because apparently he was confident in his own car.

The route stretched all around the outskirts of Beacon Hills, enough distance from the station so they wouldn't hear engines running and wheels squeaking against the road, and the route ended by the Cave. The race would start at 1:25 AM, a time where no patrols would be out checking up on the town, and people would most likely be asleep in their homes.

“One of you guys have to win,” Stiles told Allison and Scott. The night air was cool around them, only light from the streetlamps a bit from them making it possible to see the cars lined up. “I know it's just for fun, but do not let Derek or Isaac win.”

Allison smiled and teasingly nudged at him. “Don't be a child. It doesn't matter who wins.”

“Except it does, Allison, it absolutely does.” Stiles threw a look over at the others, over to where Derek was zipping up his leather jacket and where Isaac was running a hand through his curls. “They cannot win, do you hear me?”

Allison huffed a quick laugh and nodded. “Of course not. Don't worry, I plan on winning.” She smiled at him, dimples deep, and she turned to head to her car, zipping up her jacket.

Scott held his fist up for Stiles to bump his own against, which he did. “Wish me luck,” Scott said before jumping into his own car.

Stiles watched both of them close their doors, then he turned around, shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and took exactly two steps forwards, before he stopped. Because Derek was coming toward him, hands warm in his pockets.

“Are you gonna wish me luck too?” he asked, coming to a stop just a step, maybe two, away from Stiles.

Stiles snorted at him. “Now why would I do that? I'm rooting on my friends to win, not you.”

Impressive brows jumped, a hint of a playful glint in Derek's eyes. “And I'm not your friend?”

“Hell no, are you kidding me? I don't want to be friends with you.” No, Stiles wanted to be more than just friends. He wasn't going to say that out loud though. Not yet. This wasn't the right time, nor was it the right place. “But good luck, Blue Balls.” He stepped forward, grinning and smacking Derek's leather clad shoulder as he passed him. “I hope you come in last.”

He hadn't taken more than a few steps forward when he heard Derek snort, and he looked over his shoulder to see him shake his head and turn to walk over to the black Camaro parked next to Allison's car. And he could see a smile tug Derek's lips back, which made a smile of his own appear on his lips.

“Is this where we make bets on who'll win?” Stiles asked the others once he was over there, all eyes on the racers and Erica getting in position for the countdown.

Boyd huffed, arms crossed over his chest. “I think we all know who'll win. Wouldn't be a fair bet.”

“And who do you think is gonna win exactly?” Stiles took his eyes off of the cars ahead of them to give Boyd a look of raised brows. “Because I would bet all my money on Allison, and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't do that.”

“No, I would bet on Derek,” Boyd responded, shooting Stiles a quick glance, before he watched the cars again, where a few engines were revving and Erica was patting Isaac's hood. “And I'd win.”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something back, finger raised, when Laura jumped in. “Should we make a bet then? Could be more fun and actually give this race a purpose more than just for the hell of it.”

“Okay, I'll go all in on Allison,” Stiles said with a short nod.

“So will I,” Lydia chimed in, Malia as well.

Kira shrugged, eyeing the cars. “I don't know, I think Scott might take this.”

“I'm gonna go with Allison too,” Cora said. Lydia smiled at her, while Laura gasped and called her a traitor. Boyd bet on Derek, and Laura went with Isaac with no hesitation.

Stiles bopped his head. “Awesome. Winner gets ten bucks from each loser. So get your wallets ready, I'm gonna win.”

“You're not the only one betting on Allison,” Cora said with a raised brow.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright. Ten bucks for all the winners.” He shook his head, then turned his attention to where Erica was leaning against Derek's car, and he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Ready to go, dudes!”

Erica looked over at them, gave them a thumbs up, and turned to walk over in the middle of the cars, right between Isaac and Scott's cars. From where the others stood, they could just barely hear her counting down from three over the revving engines, wheels spinning against the ground and a thin cloud of smoke behind them.

As soon as Erica yelled go, the cars sped ahead, Scott quickly making it in front of everyone else. “Woo, go Scott!” Stiles yelled between his cupped hands.

They stood and watched the cars speed down the street, engines loud, until they took a turn and went out of view. “Okay, let's go to the Cave and hurry. They might make it there before us if we're too slow,” Laura said, shooing them toward the car parked a bit from there.

Arriving to the area of abandoned buildings where the Cave was located didn't take long, and they stood and waited for a long time in silence. A long time meaning maybe a few minutes, maybe less, before Stiles broke that silence.

“I'm freezing my balls off,” he complained, bringing his shoulders further up and balling his hands in the pockets of his jacket, trying to cover up his crotch so his balls wouldn't freeze off. It was in the middle of the night. The moon stood high on the dark and star filled sky. The cold wind hit against them and they were all shivering slightly.

Cora had her arms wrapped around Lydia, Malia had her arms around Kira, and Erica was pressed firmly against Boyd's warm side, Boyd's jacket wrapped around her, while Laura was leaning against those two. And Stiles was standing by himself with no source of heat other than his own jacket.

Assholes.

“It was your idea to have a race, so you pay the price,” was Malia's dry response, and Stiles stuck his tongue out at her.

“It's just very unfair that all of you are dating someone who can keep you warm, and I'm cold and hopelessly single,” he huffed, pouting slightly as he dipped half of his face into his collar.

“I'm not dating anyone either, Stiles,” Laura said from against Boyd's back.

“Aw, are you offering?”

She snorted and laughed loudly. “I'm definitely not offering, Stiles. 1, you're not my type at all. 2, Derek would kill me if I tried anything with you.”

“Wait, what?”

“And 3, I'm not looking for a relationship.”

“If you want a warm partner,” Erica joined in, a grin on her lips, “you should ask Derek.”

“Derek isn't even here and he doesn't like me in that way. What the hell are you guys talking about?” Everyone around him snorted, a few laughed, and Stiles rolled his eyes at all of them. “Okay, haha. It's so much fun keeping Stiles in the dark.”

“If Derek hasn't told you yet, I'm not going to be the one to do it for him,” Laura said, her eyes moving back to where the cars should be coming into view any minute now.

“Told me what?” Stiles asked maybe a bit louder than he had intended.

Malia shook her head. “You're so dense.”

Stiles turned to her, gave her an offended look, and opened his mouth to shoot something back. But he didn't get a chance to, because the sound of wheels against the ground along with a revving engine cut him off of whatever he was about to say back.

He instantly whipped his head around and looked out in the distance, squinting his eyes to get a better look, but all he could see were two pairs of headlights. “Who's in the lead?”

“I don't know, I can't see,” Kira said in a murmur.

Laura had a wide grin on her lips and she slapped her hands together in a clap. “Those are Derek's headlights,” she said, detaching herself from Boyd and Erica to cup her hands around her mouth. “Step on it, baby brother!”

Stiles groaned and took a couple of steps forward, narrowing his eyes to try and see the hastily approaching headlights. Whoever was behind Derek was getting closer and closer to him, slowly coming to drive side by side him. The two in the back were a bit further behind, but they were neck and neck.

The cars came into better view, Laura was cheering for her brother, and second place overtook the black Camaro and raced into first place. Stiles couldn't help the yell of excitement that escaped him when he saw Allison park the car not far from them, dust clouding against her dark colored car.

“Oh my God!” he yelled out, ignoring Derek's grumpy face as he came to a halt next to Allison. He was too busy wrapping his arms around Malia and Kira in a celebratory hug and an excited jump. “I knew Allison would win! I fucking knew it!” He threw his arms up and yelled just as Isaac parked behind the other two cars, Scott following shortly after.

Stiles high fived Lydia when she offered, before he ran over to Allison getting out of her car and threw his arms around the winner. “You're amazing and I love you!” He planted a kiss on her cheek, Allison chuckled at him, and he detached himself from her to turn to Derek. “And you.” Pointing a finger at him, he walked over. “You're a dirty cheater.”

Thick brows jumped up Derek's forehead, and he crossed his arms, leather stretching over strong biceps. “How exactly am I a cheater?”

“Well, you used you own car while everyone else used a stolen one,” Stiles said, coming to a stop close to Derek and vaguely registering Isaac patting Scott's shoulder in the corner of his eye. “For all we know, you could have upgraded it to win the race.”

“Except I didn't win. And trust me, if I had upgraded my car in any way, I would have.”

Stiles laughed, short and dry. “Sure you would. But thanks to you not winning,” he grinned, took a step closer, and poked at Derek's chest, “I just got...” He paused, the grin fading a little as his face scrunched up in thought for only a split second. “Thirty bucks richer.”

Derek snorted at him, a smirk on his lips. “Math not your strongest suit, huh?”

Stiles scoffed and let his hand drop, but he didn't step back to create distance between them. “Fuck you, I'm very good at math. Just ask Lydia. She and I were competing for the top in high school.”

Derek gave him a look, brows crawling up his forehead. “I'm sure you were.”

Stiles gaped at him, but he didn't get a chance to respond. “Hey lovebirds!” Erica yelled from the entrance of the Cave. “Unless you plan on banging in the backseat of Derek's car for warmth, get inside!”

Stiles flushed, his eyes wide, and with a huff he looked away from Derek's teasing grin and turned to rush to the cave and to warmth.

His other option had been tempting though.

**{ x }**

After two full months of laying low, Malia decided to move out. Move out of her and Stiles' small and crappy apartment they had had since they started this whole thing. To be fair, they didn't really use it much as it was, she had been using it less and less since she got together with Kira, so Stiles wasn't really surprised when she told him she was moving out and in with Kira.

Stiles wasn't mad that Malia had moved out with barely any warning. Sad, sure. They had been partners in crime for years after all. He wasn't mad. He was jealous. Because now Malia was moving on along with the rest of the crew, and Stiles couldn't help but feel sad.

He hadn't thought they would always stay criminals, hadn't thought they would always be the most talked about criminals in the same town. No, he knew all of that couldn't last forever, no matter how much he would love it. But it looked like he wouldn't be working with his friends in the very near future, and that was what bummed him out.

So if they were going to split up and part ways soon, he was going to spend every moment he could with them.

Which was why he was sitting practically snuggled up to Derek on a couch in Laura's surprisingly large apartment on the other side of town, Boyd and Erica taking up all the space to his other side. Not that he was complaining, not really. Derek was warm, and Stiles could occasionally feel his breath ghost over his ear, a quick puff of air hitting the side of his face as Derek laughed.

“No, I think it's gonna be awesome,” Stiles said, hand flailing at Erica sitting next to him. “I mean, have you seen the trailer? It looks amazing!”

Erica shrugged, sighing. “It did look pretty amazing, but I'm just saying I'm not going to get hyped up. Last time I did that, I got let down.”

“Yeah, but that was Age Of Ultron, and Whedon completely ruined that, but this is different!” Stiles shifted in his seats, accidentally pressing against Derek but Derek didn't seem to mind it. He started speaking again just as the door opened and someone walked in. “This is by the Russo brothers, and they did a great job with the Winter Soldier, so I'm super hyped.”

Erica said something else, but Stiles didn't hear it. Because Isaac walked into the living room, made eye contact with Scott, and _winked_ at him, grinning widely. And Scott flushed. Brightly. Which could only mean one thing.

“Oh my God,” he said slowly, cutting off Erica. With an angry huff, he looked over at Scott. “You fucked Isaac?!” he yelled loudly.

The conversations the others had been having quickly died out, all attention briefly on Stiles and quickly on a grinning Isaac and a slightly gaping Scott. Gaping because Stiles had stood up, groaned in frustration, and had put his hands in his hair.

“Of all the shitty people in the world, I didn't think you'd be one of them, Scott!” he yelled, his hands leaving his hair, his hair standing up in a mess. “I mean, seriously? You're gonna cheat on Allison? With Isaac? What the hell were you thinking?!”

He started pacing, eyes angrily on Scott and hands flailing around. “It's Allison, man! You've loved Allison since high school, and now you throw it all away! For what? Isaac?” He gestured over at Isaac who now looked offended, but he didn't care. “The guy's a dickhead, and you think it's a good idea to sleep with him! While you're with Allison! How the hell-”

“Actually, Stiles.” Allison reached out to grab his arm and to stop him from pacing when he stopped in front of her. She didn't look mad. No, she was smiling at him, a hint of pink on her cheeks. “I was there too.”

Stiles' anger slowly got replaced with confusion, and he looked at Allison for several seconds, before he looked over at Isaac, and then finally Scott. Scott who was nodding, blush forming on his cheeks. “Oh,” he let out in a breath, his tense shoulders falling. “Well congrats, you guys.” He sat back down next to Derek just as Erica high fived Isaac and the others threw in a congratulations as well.

Stiles was quiet as he processed that new information. There he was, not able to get one person to date him, and Scott had two now. It wasn't really that much of a surprise, actually. Scott had been talking about Isaac long before he got back together with Allison, and he had seen the way Isaac looked at both Scott and Allison, the way Scott looked at Isaac and Allison, and the way Allison looked at both men.

It wasn't really a surprise, but Stiles found himself silently processing it for most of the night anyway.

Later, when they were all getting up to leave, he made sure to give Scott a hug and apologize for yelling at him. And he made sure to pull Isaac aside and threaten to cut his balls off if he hurt either of them.

**{ x }**

“Since no one else will bring it up, I guess I'll have to,” Laura said with a sigh once their previous conversation had slipped into a comfortable silence.

Stiles wasn't sure how long they had been laying low anymore. He had stopped counting after nine weeks, when there was an article questioning where they were. It didn't matter anyway. He knew what was going to happen. He knew the Beacon Hills Outlaws wouldn't be around for much longer. At least not all of them, and those remaining wouldn't be doing criminal activities.

He knew all of that, but the thought still made him sad and he didn't want to let go. Not yet.

Like everyone else in the room, Stiles looked over at Laura in the armchair. “We can't continue being criminals in Beacon Hills,” she said. “The police are on high alert and will continue to be that, until the case gets closed. And I've been in this situation before, it won't close for a long time. So either we get normal lives here, or we get out and start fresh somewhere else.” She looked around the room, pausing for a moment. “And I have a feeling not all of us want the same thing, so maybe we should split up. Start fresh apart.”

“What?” Stiles exclaimed, whipping forward in his seat. “We don't have to split up! We can just, I don't know, go on a long vacation together and return safe and sound to Beacon Hills once the heat has cooled off.” He paused, smiling nervously. “Right?”

“Stiles,” Lydia started, looking at him with soft eyes. “Do you really think Parrish is going to let this go? We all know him. The second any of us tries to do anything, he'll be right on us. We can't be criminals in Beacon Hills anymore.”

“Besides, we've always known we couldn't stay in one town forever,” Malia said from between Kira and Erica. “You said it yourself years ago.”

Stiles looked between the two, then he let out a heavy sigh and leaned back on the couch, shoulders slumping and his head lowered. “I just didn't think it'd be so soon,” he mumbled, expecting no one to hear it. Which they didn't. Not even Derek with his eyes glued to him and his stupid ability to always hear everything.

The conversation very quickly turned to ideas of what they wanted to do next. Lydia had apparently made up her mind and had decided to go to university and pursue her love for science, and Cora had decided to go with her and figure out what to do next somewhere along the way. Malia and Kira were going to backpack through Europe or maybe just travel, see new places, spend the money they had. Boyd and Erica wanted to go to Paris as soon as possible, a ring already on Erica's finger, and Laura decided to join them. “Maybe meet a nice French person to date,” she said, a grin on her lips. Danny and Jackson had lives in Beacon Hills, so while they weren't there, everyone knew they would be staying.

“If we're really doing this,” Scott said, letting out a sigh and leaning back against Isaac, Allison resting against his front, “then I don't think I can leave Beacon Hills. I mean, I have a job here. A good job.”

Isaac stiffened slightly behind the two, eyes dropping a little and the hand that had previously moved between Scott's hand and Allison's arm stopped moving. Allison didn't hesitate to turn her head and look at Scott, a smile on her lips. “If you're staying, so am I.” She leaned in for a quick kiss, then she looked at Isaac, her smile soft. “You don't have to stay if you don't want to.”

Isaac looked between the two, uncertainty obvious in his eyes. “I think I'd like to try staying,” he said slowly after a moment, and both Scott and Allison smiled and leaned against him.

Stiles wanted to roll his eyes at the three. If he wasn't busy pondering, he probably would have. He had been quiet for long enough for Scott to notice it apparently, because Scott turned to him, worry written all over his face. “Stiles,” he said, bringing Stiles back to reality. “What's wrong?”

Stiles looked up from the ground, blinking his dry eyes. “I'm fine,” he said with a shrug. Clearing his throat, he stood up and pointed his thumb toward the kitchen. “I'm just gonna... I'm gonna get a glass of water.” He turned and left before anyone could say anything to make him stay. He did, however, catch Derek's concerned eyes for a second, but he chose to ignore that.

He could still hear the others talking in the living room once he made it to the kitchen, hands on the cold surface of the counter and head bowed down. His mind was blank as he stood there, eyes unfocused but directed down on a spot on the counter.

“You okay?”

The voice didn't startle him. He heard the footsteps before he heard the familiar voice, and he lifted his head and looked over at Derek standing in the doorway. He looked at him for a moment, then shrugged and reached up to open the cabinet and grab a glass. “Why wouldn't I be?”

Derek huffed softly, bringing his arms up to crossed as he stepped further into the kitchen. “Because you stormed out of there after yelling at everyone.”

Stiles sighed heavily, the sigh close to a groan, and he filled the glass up with water, then turned and rested his lower back against the counter. “Okay, so maybe I'm not totally crazy about the idea of parting ways. I love my friends, you can't blame me for wanting to stick with them.” He shook his head and took a quick sip of the cool water. “Obviously that's not a possibility since everyone already has plans and someone to do those plans with. Except for me. What am I supposed to do? I can't live a normal life. Maybe in the very distant future, yeah, but not now.”

Derek dropped his arms and walked over to lean next to Stiles, grabbing at the edge of the counter. “You know you don't have to give up this life, right?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, swallowing the water in his mouth. “Yeah, but I can't do it with my team anymore. I mean, I knew Scott would eventually stop being part of the team. He wasn't 100% in from the start anyway. I just thought I'd at least have Malia with me the whole time, and now she's moving on too.” He paused, tapping lightly on the glass and ignoring how much he wanted to lean into Derek at that moment. “I might just go find a new team in a new town. Won't be the same, but what choice do I have?”

Derek was silent for several seconds, before he inhaled silently and looked straight ahead. “You could always just come with me.”

Stiles whipped his head around, eyes wide in surprise. “Are you serious?” Derek shrugged, Stiles continued. “Where are you planning on going?”

“Anywhere that isn't Beacon Hills or New York.” Derek turned to look at him, a hint of a smile on his lips. “We can go anywhere we want to, do whatever we want.”

Stiles didn't fight the smile that tugged his lips back, a toothy smile that reached his brown eyes, brown eyes glued to Derek's bright and hazel ones. “I like the sound of that.”

Derek returned the smile and bumped his shoulder lightly against Stiles'. “Good. Now you've got a plan B, so stop being sad. It's not like you'll lose contact with your friends forever. There's a thing called texting and the internet you can use.”

Stiles made a face at him, his nose scrunching and eyes rolling, and he shoved him lightly. “Shut the fuck up, dumbass. Get out of here.”

Derek grinned at him, shoved him back, and turned to leave, to go back to the living room where laughter erupted, Erica's laugh loud and happy.

Stiles didn't take his eyes off of Derek until he could no longer see him, and only then did his smile slowly fade off his lips. Yeah, he was going to tell Derek how he felt. He was going to tell him that he wanted to leave Beacon Hills with him.

He hadn't been more sure of something since he came up with his code name.

Stiles quickly downed the water in the glass, before he followed Derek back into the living room. “I have an amazing idea,” he announced, throwing himself down next to Derek on the couch, a wide grin on his lips.

Erica wiped carefully under her right eye, quickly blinking back the tears from laughter. Stiles was only a little bit curious as to what the hell had been so funny, but he didn't ask. “What's your amazing idea?” Kira asked, curious eyes on him.

“Since we're all planning on leaving or at least quitting the criminal life,” Stiles started, smug grin growing wider, “why don't we give our friends in uniform a parting gift?”

It took no more than a second before there was a matching grin on Malia's lips. “I like that idea.”

Laura nodded shortly after, sending Stiles an approving smile. “We should absolutely give them a parting gift they'll never forget about.”

Stiles sat up straight, proud grin on his lips when he turned to Derek. Derek who winked at him, a smile of his own formed.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

**{ x }**

Finding Derek's place was easy. Easy because he had asked Laura, and she had told him with no hesitation, a pat on the shoulder, and a wink. Stiles was convinced she was a mind reader, because he was pretty sure she knew exactly why he asked for Derek's address. Not that he had been very subtle about it when he had asked, but he still felt slightly embarrassed. Slightly.

As Stiles pulled into the parking spot, he spotted the black Camaro sitting by itself, a few other cars parked around, and he pulled over to park next to the familiar car. He got out and let his head drop back, his eyes scanning up the building, and an already tired sigh passed him, his shoulders slumping. “Why do you live on the top floor, Derek?” he mumbled to himself. “Great view, I'm sure, but too many stairs.”

Except a lot of stairs meant he had time to think about what he was going to say once he actually made it up there. He passed an old lady halfway up, and he paused to give her a nod in passing. She completely ignored him though. Rude.

He made it to the top floor way sooner than he had expected, and there he was. Standing in front of the big, sliding door leading into Derek's loft, his heart pounding in his chest and his fingers fidgeting with his shirt. He took in several deep breaths, before he had the courage to step forward and knock his closed fist against the door.

A few seconds that felt like several minutes passed, and then the door was pulled open and Derek appeared. His hair was slightly ruffled, his shirt loose over his chest, his pants were tight and, despite being at home, he was wearing shoes. Derek's eyes ran over him for a moment, then his brows knitted together in confusion. “How do you know where I live?” he asked, letting go of the door to cross his arms.

Stiles nearly drooled at the sight of Derek's biceps in that position, but he managed to keep his drool where it should be. In his mouth. “I've got my ways,” he answered with a smirk and a quick wiggle of his brows. However, at Derek's unimpressed look, he sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, Laura may have told me where you live.”

The corner of Derek's lips tugged back in a quick smile, and then he turned around to walk back inside, leaving the door open for Stiles. “What do you want?”

Stiles inhaled deeply and stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him. He let his eyes wander around the loft. There wasn't much to it, actually. The place was barely furnished. There was a giant window at the other end of the loft, giving an incredible view of the town below, and in front of that window was a big desk with a lamp lighting down on the wood, a few books laying around.

To the left of the table there was a spiral staircase leading upstairs, and Stiles suddenly felt curious and wanted to go explore up there. Right in front of the staircase was a couch, a table positioned in front of it. The couch didn't look particularly comfortable nor did it look expensive, but it looked used.

As Stiles stepped further inside, his eyes went to the right of the loft. There was a giant wall with nothing on it or in front of it, although it looked like it was freshly repaired. And in the far right corner of the loft was the bed. It was big, looked comfortable, and Stiles may have spend a second too long staring at it, before he snapped his attention to Derek.

Derek who was standing in front of him, watching him. Waiting.

“Well uh,” Stiles started, taking half a step closer to Derek and bringing his hands together. “I want to take you up on your offer. You know, start fresh somewhere. Go wherever we want, do whatever we want. All of that. I want to do that. With you.”

Derek looked at him, the silence only making Stiles' nerves bigger. And then Derek moved closer just a little. “And do you want to do that as partners in crime or..” his eyes flickered down to Stiles' lips for only a second, but Stiles caught it. “Or something else?”

Stiles allowed himself to look at Derek's lips, his tongue moving out to wet his own, before he looked back at Derek's curious eyes. “Would you still take me with you if I said I wanted to be more than partners in crime? Like, I want to be partners. Not just in crime.”

Derek smiled, white teeth poking out just slightly between his lips, and he moved closer, stepping into Stiles' space. “I wouldn't want it any other way,” he said, his voice lowered and his hands moving up to cup Stiles' face. “Because I don't think I could leave here with you and not kiss you.”

He leaned in, his head tilting to the right, and he stopped with barely any distance between them, Derek's lips ghosting over Stiles', their breaths mingling. Stiles very quickly caught on that this was Derek asking for permission, even though he didn't need to. So Stiles reached up to grab Derek's shirt and leaned in, pressing his lips firmly against Derek's.

Stiles felt stubble tickling his chin and nose, and he liked it. He liked it when the hairs brushed over his skin when Derek parted his lips just slightly to soften and deepen the kiss, Stiles doing the same thing but letting his tongue slip out for just a quick taste.

Except a quick taste turned to a much longer one when Derek's tongue slipped out to join his. Derek's hands moved away from Stiles' cheeks and moved down between them, down to Stiles' hips to pull him flush against him.

Stiles couldn't help the moan that escaped from him into the kiss, in between his and Derek's mouth. Derek responded with a groan of his own, and Stiles grinned. Lightly digging his teeth into Derek's bottom lip, he smoothed his hands down on his chest and slid them up, up and around his neck. His hips rolled teasingly against Derek's, and he pulled just a bit back, pulling Derek's lip with him until he let go.

“That was a pretty great first kiss,” Stiles said, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Derek's. “I'd even say it was perfect.”

Derek grinned, his hands moving from Stiles' hips to around his lower back, pressing them together. “I think it could use some improvement.”

Stiles could feel Derek's bulge pressing against the side of his own, neither hard but Stiles was definitely getting there. Would be there soon if Derek kept touching him like he was. “Then we should practice,” he said and tilted his head, his nose brushing over Derek's. “A lot.”

Stiles' grin matched Derek's, and he didn't waste a second before he leaned in to kiss Derek again, his arms snaking around his neck and his lips parting to deepen the kiss. He moaned softly into the kiss when he felt Derek's hands move down to cup his ass and give a quick squeeze, and he rolled his hips, pressing his ass back into the strong hands and grinding their clothed cocks together.

It caused Derek to stop kissing him back in order to let out a deep moan, his mouth open against Stiles' grinning lips. Stiles pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Derek's parted lips, before he dipped his head down and kissed along Derek's stubbled jaw and down his neck, his hands moving down his muscular chest and his hips grinding. Stiles could feel Derek grow hard against his thigh, and he was getting hard himself. “You got any neighbors?” he asked against Derek's exposed neck.

Derek grunted, his one hand moving up under Stiles' shirt and up his smooth back, while the other stayed touching his ass. “Closest one lives two floors below,” he finally answered, his hips slowly grinding back, rolling slower but more aggressively against Stiles' rocking ones.

Stiles smirked against the prickly skin of Derek's neck. “Good.” He planted a quick kiss next to the Adam's apple, before he pulled his head back up to come eye to eye with Derek, and he took half a step back, stepping out of Derek's grip and letting his jacket fall to the ground behind him. “Because I want you to fuck me.” He didn't break eye contact when he reached out and unbuckled Derek's belt, unzipping his pants right after. “And I'm not gonna be quiet.”

The look in Derek's eyes quickly became dark, lustful, and he reached out to pull Stiles' shirt up and off, Stiles easily letting him do so. The shirt fell to the ground, and Derek took in the sight of Stiles. Stiles was lithe, muscles clear but they weren't big. His skin was pale and an assortment of scars covered his torso and parts of his arms. Like the one he had on his arm from the bullet a few months ago. It wasn't fully a scar, but it was getting there. The scars were no surprise. You couldn't live a life like they were living without having scars.

Stiles was not only covered in scars, but moles dotted his pale torso as well. His nipples were pink and perky, and Derek couldn't stop himself from reaching out and brushing a thumb over one of them. Stiles bit his bottom lip in response, a choked whine escaping him and his cheeks flushing red.

Derek's lips tugged back in a playful grin, and with his hand still on Stiles' chest, his thumb brushing over the nipple, he stepped up to him. “You better not be quiet,” he said, his voice deep and slightly hoarse.

Stiles licked his lips and his hands moved from Derek's undone pants to up under his shirt. His fingers ran through hair and over abs, both of which became visible when the shirt rode up with his hands. He dropped his gaze to where he was touching, taking in the view of Derek's chest. It wasn't the first time he saw Derek's chest. No, Derek liked working out shirtless, and Stiles had spend hours daydreaming about running his fingers through the hair covering his torso.

Apparently he spend too long admiring the view, because Derek pushed his hands away and pulled the shirt off for him, throwing it elsewhere. And Derek didn't waste a second before he stepped forward, cupped Stiles face again, and leaned in for a firm and deep kiss that Stiles didn't hesitate to return.

Derek's hands were warm on Stiles' back, although they didn't stay there long, before they moved down. Down to slide over Stiles' ass and down to grab the back of his thighs. Derek bend down in his knees, trying to keep kissing Stiles but their lips parted, and as he stood back up, he hoisted Stiles up with him. Stiles immediately threw his legs around Derek's hips, Derek's hands back on his ass, more for keeping him up than touching.

“Bed,” Stiles said as he leaned in to continue their kiss, grinding down on Derek slowly. Derek's pants were sliding downward slowly, underwear as well, from Stiles' grinding, but Stiles kept going, his cock hard and pressing against his jeans, rubbing against Derek's bare abdomen.

Derek moaned against Stiles' lips as he turned and walked toward the bed on unsteady feet. He took no more than two steps forward, before he groaned and broke the kiss to see where he was going, and Stiles' lips attached themselves to Derek's neck, his hands going into his hair and tugging.

When they made it to the bed, Derek moved a hand between them and pushed Stiles off of him and onto the bed with a soft “oof” leaving him as he hit the mattress. He took in the sight of Stiles sprawled out on his bed for a moment, watched as Stiles reached down to unzip his own jeans and tug them down just enough to reveal his hips. Derek's hands came to join Stiles', tugged down the jeans and underwear with him. Stiles' cock sprung out when both were far enough down, and Derek kept tugging, his eyes immediately on the bare and hard cock, his tongue moving out to lick his lips.

He stopped when the jeans and underwear were just below Stiles' knees, and he reached down to pull off Stiles' Converse and socks, throwing them elsewhere in the loft. One of the shoes hit a pillar in the room with a thud, before it fell to the ground, and Derek pulled off the rest of Stiles' clothes until Stiles was naked on his bed. He laid his hands out on Stiles' thighs and pushed them apart just a bit as he moved onto the bed with him, ducking his head down to kiss Stiles' pale and smooth chest.

Stiles opened his mouth in a silent moan, his hands moving up along Derek's muscular back. He moaned deeply and arched his back slightly, when he felt Derek's tongue press against his nipple. “Ah, fuck,” he let out in a shaky breath. “As much as I'm loving this,” he lifted his one leg and pressed his foot against Derek's upper thigh, toes curling around the undone belt, “you're not naked yet. Get naked, Derek.”

Derek smiled against his nipple, placed another quick kiss, and then he leaned back and stood up. Stiles propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Derek hooked his thumbs in his underwear and pulled both those and his pants down. Once they pooled around his ankles, he stepped out of them and his shoes and moved back over to the bed, where Stiles had scooted to sit on the edge. He touched Stiles' cheek lightly, locked eyes with him as Stiles ran his hands up along the backside of Derek's bare and muscular thighs.

Stiles held Derek's gaze for another moment, before his eyes dropped down to the hard cock in front of him. His tongue ran over his bottom lip, and he wrapped a hand around the shaft of it, pinky running across the balls. The touch got a low moan out of Derek and Stiles felt the hand on his cheek move to the back of his head. He leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to just under the head, his tongue slipping out to taste.

He had only just gotten his lips wrapped around the head, when Derek's hand was under his jaw and pulling him back and off. “I'm not gonna last long if you do that,” Derek said when Stiles looked up at him, voice deep and ears red.

Stiles grinned and patted Derek's ass lightly, scooting back further onto the bed, his legs falling apart. “Then get the lube, Blue Balls,” he said with a wink.

Derek gave him an unimpressed look. “Don't call me that in bed.” He knelt onto the bed and leaned over Stiles to kiss him. “Foxy,” he whispered against his lips, grinning when Stiles snorted. He kissed him once more, this time firmly and deeply, his tongue tasting Stiles shortly, before he leaned back. “Don't start without me,” he said and got off the bed. He turned around and hurried toward the staircase on the other side of the room.

Stiles hummed softly, tilting his head slightly as he watched Derek's ass bounce slightly as he walked away. “Then hurry back,” he said, slipping a hand between his legs and pressing a finger lightly against his hole. “'Cause I'm not gonna wait long for you.”

Derek stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to look at him, to watch him as he slipped the tip of his finger inside. Stiles opened his legs further, giving Derek a better view. “You're not hurrying,” he called out, grinning at Derek's gaping stare.

With a quick shake of his head, Derek pulled himself out of it and practically ran up the stairs. He wasn't gone for more than a minute and when he came back, he was holding a half empty bottle of lube in his hand, an almost sad look on his face when he stopped in front of the bed where Stiles was opening himself up with a finger. “I don't have any condoms,” he said after a moment of just watching.

Stiles blinked up at him, then huffed and wagged his foot at Derek's leg. “Relax, I came prepared.” He lifted himself up a little, his finger slipping out of his hole, and he eyed the floor until he spotted his jacket. “Bring me my jacket.”

Derek shot a look over at the jacket on the floor, but he quickly looked back at Stiles, a grin forming on his lips. “So you were expecting us to have sex then?” With a brow jumping up shortly, he turned around and headed over to the jacket.

“A man can hope, Derek,” Stiles said, catching the jacket when it was thrown to him. He sat up and dipped his hand into one of the pockets, then the other. With a wide smile on his lips, he brought his hand back up and handed Derek a fistful of condoms. Derek gave him a look, so he shrugged. “What?”

Derek rolled his eyes and took the condoms from Stiles, one or two falling from his hand to the bed. He looked through the different sized condoms in his hand but quickly stopped, his shoulders slumping. He grabbed one condom and held it up, giving Stiles a questioning look. “Really, Stiles? A size small?”

“I didn't know how big your dick is!” Stiles exclaimed, flailing his arms around.

Derek rolled his eyes, shook his head, and dug into the small pile in his hand. He found the one he was looking for, tossed it next to Stiles on the mattress, and let the rest fall to the floor. “Roll over,” he demanded, eyes on Stiles as he grabbed the bottle of lube.

Stiles did as he was told, rolling over onto his stomach before he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and spread his legs, his ass up and right there for Derek. He wiggled his hips slowly and turned his head to watch Derek, watch him pop open the cap of the bottle and lube up two of his fingers. His teeth dug into his bottom lip when the bed dipped down as Derek came up behind him, and he grabbed fistfuls of sheet in his hands when he felt a hand on his ass cheek.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts,” Derek whispered and there was a soft kiss on Stiles' lower back. Stiles scoffed, rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to say that he wouldn't care if it hurt. But a loud moan interrupted him the moment he felt two slick fingers slip inside of him.

While Derek worked him open, Stiles didn't hold anything back. Loud and deep moans left him, as did groans, curses, and Derek's name. His hips bucked, rolled back against Derek's fingers – three, now – as they moved around, touched and occasionally brushed his prostate, and he would reach down to touch himself if it wasn't for Derek's other hand already doing that.

“Fuck, Derek,” he moaned loudly, his voice hoarse. “I'm ready- shit- just fuck me already!”

Derek leaned over him and placed a few kisses between his shoulder blades, his fingers slowing while the hand around Stiles' cock left. “I want to see your face,” he said against the slightly sweaty skin. “Roll over on your back.” He pulled his fingers out and reached for the condom.

Stiles huffed, a near snort, but he gave in and laid down on his back. “Didn't know you were such a sap,” he said, a fond smile on his lips. He grabbed under his knees and brought his legs up, spreading them open.

Derek ripped the condom open and rolled it onto his cock, before he moved over to sit on his knees between Stiles' opened legs. “I just want to see your face when you come.” With a smile matching Stiles', he leaned down to kiss him as he shifted closer until their thighs were touching. Derek sat back a little, stroked himself once or twice, before he guided himself to Stiles' hole and slowly, carefully pushed inside.

Stiles' mouth dropped open in a silent moan, and he reached out to grab Derek's bicep, his grip strong. He tightened slightly around Derek's cock when it was halfway inside of him, and Derek leaned over him to press soft kisses to his neck, as he pushed the rest of the way in. Pushed until his balls rested against Stiles' ass and their hips were connected.

Stiles let out a shaky breath and hooked his legs around Derek, his heel digging into his lower back just slightly. “Fuck, you feel good,” he moaned, his hand on Derek's bicep sliding up to the back of his head, fingers combing through his hair. He pulled him down for a deep kiss, his hips rolling against Derek's and he moaned when Derek responded with a slow thrust.

Derek started moving, his movements slow but enough to get both of them moaning in each other's mouths. The pace picked up quickly though, when Stiles moved his mouth to Derek's neck and sucked, leaving a hickey as he pulled back. Derek groaned at him and leaned back to sit on his knees. He grabbed Stiles' hips and pulled him up just a bit, picking up the pace of his thrusts into Stiles.

Stiles grabbed at Derek's arm with his one hand, the other wrapping around his own cock. He tried to stroke it in tact with Derek's thrusts, his thumb brushing over the leaking head, but his movements were sloppy compared to Derek's. He kept moaning, kept cursing loudly, kept being loud, and Derek let out grunts, moans, and sharp curses at each and every sound Stiles let out.

It wasn't long before Derek's thrusts became sloppy and rougher, the moans getting deeper and the grip on Stiles' hips tightened. “Fuck, Stiles- I'm gonna come,” he warned, his voice rough.

Stiles looked at him, looked at Derek moaning and thrusting into him. Derek who was sweating and seconds from coming, and Stiles felt himself getting close as well. He loosened his grip on Derek's arm and moved his hand up and down it slowly. “Come for me, Derek,” he said in a low and hoarse voice.

And Derek did only seconds after. His mouth dropped open in a broken moan and his hips bucked forward sloppily as he came, his grip tightening and yeah, Stiles was going to have bruises but he was fine with it. Loved it, actually. He liked the thought of being sore everywhere for days after then, to look at himself naked and see bruises from where Derek had held him. And he definitely liked watching Derek come. That was definitely something he could and would get used to.

His own cock twitched as he watched Derek pant, the hips pounding into him slowly coming to a halt. He didn't even realize he had stopped stroking himself. Not until Derek wrapped a hand around his cock and did it for him. Derek leaned down and captured Stiles' red and plush lips with his own, kissing him as he jerked him off. And Stiles soon joined him in the afterglow, coming with Derek's name rolling off his tongue and his hips bucking into Derek's hand.

Derek placed soft and quick kisses along Stiles' jaw, while Stiles laid back, his eyes closed and heavy pants coming from him. “So that was...” Stiles paused, swallowing and letting out a breath. “That was fucking amazing.” He patted Derek's arm. “We are gonna do that a lot, buddy.”

Derek smiled against Stiles' jaw and pressed another soft kiss to the skin, before he moved back to come face to face with the man under him. “Looking forward to it.” He leaned down and kissed him. Just for a moment, before he pulled his hips back and pulled out of Stiles. He sat back, pulled the condom off, and tied a knot on it, putting it elsewhere and then leaning down to lay on top of Stiles.

“Dude, you're gonna get sticky,” Stiles said, but he didn't hesitate to throw his arms around Derek, his legs already thrown over Derek's. “My come is gonna be all up in that glorious chest hair of yours.”

“I'll clean it out later,” Derek murmured before pressing a kiss to Stiles' lips. Stiles hummed softly against his lips, and he didn't hesitate to kiss him back, touching up and down Derek's back slowly.

Stiles leaned back after a moment, groaning as he realized something. “Fuck, Lydia's gonna win 800 bucks now,” he said, his voice low in a grumble.

Derek laughed, shaking lightly on top of him. “I know.”

Stiles grinned and wrapped his arms further around Derek, pressing them closer together. “Totally worth it though.” He captured Derek's lips with his own and Derek kissed him back, their lips moving together slowly and softly.

They laid there for a while, just kissing and calming down, catching their breaths and letting the sweat become cool on their skin. They laid there for a while, before Stiles' stomach growled loudly. Stiles blinked in surprise, his eyes wide as they met Derek's, and Derek snorted, biting back a laugh.

“You hungry?” he asked, running his fingers through Stiles' hair.

Stiles shrugged just as his stomach growled again. “Only if you're offering to pay for food.”

Derek gave him a look. “Neither of us are poor, Stiles.”

“I know. I'm just saying you should pay on a first date.”

Derek paused, his brows knitting together. “I wouldn't call this a date, idiot. All we did was fuck.”

“It could be a date if there's food involved.” Stiles smiled widely at him, eyes big.

Derek looked at him for a moment, then groaned and pushed himself up and off of Stiles. “Fine, I'll order pizza.”

While Derek ordered a large pizza for the two of them, Stiles cleaned himself up with a damp cloth, and then did the same to Derek with another one. When the pizza guy arrived 26 minutes later, Derek was the one to get up and pay for it, underwear and shirt only just thrown on. Stiles was still naked in bed, but he covered himself up in case the guy delivering the pizza could see him from the door.

Derek returned to the bed with the pizza, and Stiles breathed in the smell of it, a happy smile on his face. “Oh my God, I'm starving,” he said, throwing the box open the moment Derek sat it down, and he didn't hesitate to grab a slice and stuff his mouth with it.

Derek quickly stripped out of his shirt and he turned, bending down to pick up Stiles' underwear and throwing it to him. “Don't eat with your dick out.”

Stiles made a low noise when the underwear landed on his thigh, and he stuffed his mouth with more pizza, before he put the slice down and slipped into his underwear. When he looked over at Derek grabbing their clothes and throwing them over to the side of the bed so they weren't everywhere, his eyes landed on the triskele tattoo on his back.

“Can I ask you something?” Stiles asked after he swallowed the pizza in his mouth, Derek having sat down next to him on the bed and picked up his own slice. “What does your tattoo mean?”

Derek paused with his teeth dug into the pizza slice, glanced at Stiles, and bit off a piece, chewing it slowly. “It's a triskele,” he started, shifting slightly where he sat. “Each spiral means something. Past, present, future. Life, death, rebirth.” He paused for a moment, dropping his gaze to the slice in his hand. “Mother, father, child.”

Stiles had stopped eating his own slice, had stopped to listen to Derek, eyes glued to him, and Derek continued. “My dad had one on his arm. He got it after Laura was born.”

“So tattoo for your dad and wolf mask for your mom?” Stiles asked, and Derek nodded slowly. “Family must really be important to you.”

Derek nodded again, inhaled and exhaled in a sigh. “Yeah, family is very important to me. I don't know what I'd do without Laura and Cora. Or any of the others, for that matter. They're family too.”

Stiles noticed Derek's face falling, his shoulders slumping, and he quickly moved over to him, moving to sit in Derek's lap, pressing his back against Derek's front and resting his head on his shoulder. “Did I ever tell you about my family?” he asked, looking at Derek with a soft smile on his lips.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, their legs tangling together. He shook his head, and Stiles raised his slice of pizza to his mouth, taking a bite. “Well,” he started around the bite, “I met Scott when I was 6. I ruined his sandcastle, he cried, we fought. Like, punching fighting. Do you know how hard a 6 year old can punch? Scotty could throw a punch, dude.”

Derek chuckled behind him, and Stiles continued. “We became best friends after that. We got in a lot of trouble together. Mostly because people picked on him because of his asthma and I punched them.” He paused to swallow and take another bite, Derek doing the same. “My dad's always been a bit of a hard ass. He refused to be nice to me about the criminal life until just recently, which I get 'cause who'd want their kid to do illegal things when you used to be the sheriff? He's great though. Got better and happier since he married Melissa, Scott's mom.”

“And your mom?” Derek asked slowly, curious eyes scanning Stiles' face.

The smile that pulled at Stiles' lips was sad. “She died when I was 10.” Derek stilled behind him, and Stiles hurried to continue before Derek could apologize for having asked. “She was a great mom. Kind, sweet, funny. She used to read me books all the time, and she showed me a bunch of movies that probably weren't age appropriate. She showed me Star Wars, which might be why I love it so much.”

Derek had moved his hand down to Stiles', their fingers lacing together. “She got put in the hospital for the first time when I was 9. Didn't really leave there again.” He shrugged, looking down at where Derek's thumb was slowly moving over the back of his hand. “I don't really remember what she was like right before she died, and I don't really want to remember either, you know? I just wanna remember the happy mom I had until she wasn't there anymore.”

Derek rested his head against Stiles'. “Sorry about your mom.”

“Sorry about your family.” Stiles put down his slice of pizza and brought his free hand to the side of Derek's face, turning his head and leaning up to capture his lips with his own. The kiss was short but soft. “But you've got me, Derek, and I'm not going anywhere.”

Derek smiled softly and leaned in to kiss Stiles again, just for a moment. “Where do you want to go when we leave Beacon Hills?” he asked, changing the subject.

Stiles smiled widely at him and started talking about everywhere he wanted to go, everything he wanted to do. Most things were illegal, a few weren't. But every single one of them were with Derek by his side.

**{ x }**

Stiles woke up just as the sun started to rise, a few beams of light falling over the floor of the loft, not reaching the bed he was sprawled out on. He stretched and yawned silently, the duvet covering his naked body sliding down his bare chest. Slowly, he rolled over onto his side and looked at the man sleeping next to him.

Derek looked so relaxed and beautiful in his sleep, and Stiles smiled softly at the sight. “That's gonna be great to wake up to every morning,” he murmured to himself as he shifted over to Derek's side of the bed. He shoved the duvet just a bit down and ran his hand over Derek's bare chest, ran his fingers through the hair covering it.

They were both naked, underwear having come off just before they went to bed for some sleepy hand jobs. And a blow job from Derek. Derek who was very good with his mouth and Stiles hadn't lasted long with those lips wrapped around his cock, fingers playing with his hole and balls.

Stiles shifted closer, threw his leg over Derek to straddle him, and he leaned down to kiss his neck softly. His lips brushed over the hickey he had left there, a grin pulling his lips back when he remembered it.

Derek shifted slightly under him, his eyes fluttering as they opened slowly. “Hey.” His voice was rough with sleep, and he stretched shortly, before his hands were on Stiles' thighs going up. “This how you're gonna wake me up all the time now?”

Stiles hummed softly against the prickly skin, planted one more kiss, and then leaned back to look down at Derek, grin fully on his lips. “Only on days I wake up early,” he said and slowly moved his hips, rolling them down against Derek. Their cocks rubbed together, and Stiles could feel himself getting hard again when Derek's hands grabbed his ass and he felt him buck up against him.

“I could get used to that.” Derek lifted his head from the pillow to capture Stiles' lips with his own, the kiss returned instantly.

But it didn't last long, because Stiles pulled back and made a face. “You've got terrible morning breath.”

Derek rolled his eyes and grabbed Stiles' slightly bruised hips. “Yeah, so do you.” With a quick movement, he rolled them over to have Stiles pinned under him, the duvet falling off of their naked bodies as he did. “But I'm gonna kiss you anyway,” he said and did so.

Stiles only made a short noise of disgust, before he kissed back, his hands in Derek's hair when their tongues brushed against each other. Derek shifted until he was straddling Stiles, and he pushed back against Stiles' half hard cock, rubbing it between his cheeks and over his hole, his own cock resting on Stiles' stomach.

“Oh my God,” Stiles murmured against his lips and quickly pulled back to look at him with wide eyes. “Are you gonna ride me?”

Derek cocked a brow at him, a grin slowly forming on his lips. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Stiles inhaled sharply and nodded. Several times. “Okay. Okay.” He patted Derek's thighs and shifted under him until Derek lifted himself up, so he could shift out from under him. Confused, Derek watched as Stiles rolled half off the bed, reached for the pile of condoms laying on the pile of clothes and he threw one at Derek once he found it, then grabbed the lube on the table next to the bed and was back on the bed, patting his stomach in invitation, in just a few seconds. “Okay, I'm ready, cowboy.”

Derek looked at him for a moment, brows raised, and he rolled his eyes as he huffed. “You're ridiculous,” he said and moved over to straddle Stiles again. “Why do I like you?”

“Because I'm hot as hell and amazing in bed.” Stiles grinned at him and touched up his thigh slowly, eyes wandering downward and taking in the sight of Derek sitting on top of him, hard and cheeks flushed. “Time to ride, cowboy. Your horse isn't gonna be here all day.”

Derek groaned at him. “If you continue to be lame, my horse can ride itself.”

“Oh yeah? And what if I do this?” Stiles moved his hand up Derek's thigh and around to his ass, a finger moving between his cheeks and touching his hole teasingly.

Derek let out a soft breath, his hips bucking back against the teasing finger. “That's better.”

Stiles pulled his hand away for only a moment to lube his fingers up, and then he was right back between Derek's cheeks, slowly pushing a finger inside and working Derek open. Derek moaned deeply, rocking back against the finger in him, the finger that was soon joined by a second, and he wrapped a hand around his own cock, stroking himself slowly.

Stiles worked Derek open slowly, the sun rising outside. He worked him up until Derek reached behind himself, grabbed Stiles' wrist, and pulled his fingers out. He sat back and ripped open the condom, rolling it onto Stiles' hard cock and giving it a few strokes which caused Stiles to let out a deep moan followed by cursing.

Derek lifted himself up to his knees, held Stiles' cock in his hand, and sank down onto it, his mouth opening in a moan. Stiles' toes curled and he grabbed at Derek's thighs, eyes glued to Derek sinking down on him. “This is the best morning I've ever had,” he said in a quick breath, moaning shortly after.

Derek grinned and made himself comfortable with Stiles inside of him, then started to ride him, slowly and teasingly, eyes locked with Stiles' the whole time.

Stiles didn't last long, but who could blame him? Derek Hale was riding him. And Derek was not only sexy and hot as a burning fire. He was beautiful, gorgeous. His cheeks were flushed, ears pink, and mouth open as deep moans passed him. He had one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself, and the other on Stiles, resting on his chest for support.

No one could blame him for coming quickly, Derek's name rolling off of his lips and his hips bucking up toward Derek. Derek came shortly after, came on Stiles' chest, and Stiles licked his lips at the sight.

“You're gorgeous,” he said, eyes locked on Derek panting and coming down from his high. “Ridiculously gorgeous, holy shit.”

Derek blinked a few times, his eyes going from unfocused to focused on Stiles, and the corner of his lips tugged back in a half smile. “You're not so bad yourself,” he said as he raised himself up, Stiles slipping out of him.

“No, I'm serious.” Stiles grabbed Derek's hand that was reaching between them for Stiles' soft cock. He locked eyes with Derek, eyes soft. “I've never met anyone as beautiful as you, Derek.”

Derek looked at him, surprised and maybe a little stunned. He sat there silently for several seconds, before he leaned down and kissed Stiles firmly and deeply. Stiles' hands were in Derek's hair immediately, and he didn't hesitate to kiss him back, keeping him down even as he moved to pull away.

It wasn't until Derek moved his hand down to his spend cock, that Stiles let him pull back, and Derek pulled off the condom and got out of bed to throw it out. He returned quickly after and moved to lay down close to Stiles, pulling the duvet back over them and resting his head on Stiles' shoulder, their legs tangling together.

“Shouldn't we get cleaned up?” Stiles asked but made no movement to get up. He wrapped his arm around Derek, pulling him close to himself, and kissed his forehead.

“Later.” Derek kissed Stiles' shoulder and made himself comfortable against him.

**{ x }**

Three days passed by before Stiles got a text from Lydia telling him to come to the Cave so they could start planning. Stiles stared at the screen of his phone and groaned as he put it down, throwing himself back on top of Derek. Derek who was slowly waking up from Stiles' movements on top of him.

“Derek, wake up.” Stiles patted Derek's cheek lightly, and Derek groaned, swatting his hand away. “Lydia wants us at the Cave.” He sat up, threw the duvet off, and got out of bed, while Derek rolled over on his side, arm thrown over his head to hide his face.

Stiles sighed at the sight and reached over to slap Derek's ass. “Come on, sleepyhead. Don't make me drag you out of my bed.” They had moved to Stiles' apartment the day before. Mostly because Stiles needed clean clothes after he had walked around either naked or the clothes he had on when he came to Derek not that long ago.

Derek sighed heavily, laid still for another moment, and then slowly sat up with a huff. Stiles grinned at him and kissed him quickly. “I'll buy breakfast this time.” Derek grunted, kissed him back, and moved to get out of bed.

They made it to the Cave an hour later, full and clothed. Stiles didn't think when he reached out to grab Derek's hand, lacing their fingers together, and Derek made no protest when they walked down the stairs to the basement like that, hand in hand.

Everyone else was down there – minus Jackson, but Danny was there – and they had only gone three steps down when Lydia looked at them, her eyes widening immediately and a wide grin forming on her lips. She turned to look at the others, a smug look on her face. “I win. Pay up.”

“Wait, how do you know they banged?” Malia asked, looking from Lydia to Derek and Stiles, both of whom were stood by the table, hands still together.

Lydia gave Malia a look, then turned to Derek and Stiles. “Do they look like they've seen the outside recently? Besides, they're holding hands, they both have hickeys, and is it honestly surprising that they did? Because I don't know about you guys, but I knew they'd end up hooking up.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and finally let go of Derek's hand. “Seriously? How could you possibly know that?”

“I bet you'd do it within the first week of knowing each other,” Laura admitted with a shrug.

Derek gave his sister a look, brows low over his eyes. “Thanks.”

“Okay, can we stop talking about Derek and I banging?” Stiles said, his voice raised just slightly and Scott grinned at him, giving him a thumbs up. “The sex was good, like really good, and I'm all for talking about Derek's amazing ass and dick.” Cora groaned in disgust and made a face at him, Derek's ears turned pink and he looked down to hide the smile that formed on his lips. “But that's not really what we're here for.”

Scott nodded, resting his hands on the table. “I agree. We should start planning the parting gift.”

“And make it really good,” Stiles said, wagging his finger at the team gathered around. “'Cause this needs to be a really good prank for it to stick with them for a long time. And you know, get to the front page.”

“Oh, we will definitely make front page,” Erica said, a grin on her red lips. “We'll be all the town talks about for months.”

Stiles bopped his head a few times, then smacked his hands together. “Okay, let's get started.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did I exaggerate the size of Beacon Hills a little? Yes. Am I gonna change it? Nope.  
> For reference, the Cave looks a lot like the Arrow Cave in season 4 of Arrow, but smaller and with stairs instead of elevators.
> 
>  **Team Stilinski Code Names** :  
> Fox (Stiles) | Coyote (Malia) | Ariel (Lydia)  
> Arrow (Allison) | Wolf (Scott) | Kitsune (Kira)  
> DM (Danny) | Jay (Jackson)
> 
>  **Team Hale Code Names** :  
> Blue (Derek) | Alpha (Laura) | Red (Cora)  
> Catwoman (Erica) | Yellow (Isaac) | Beta (Boyd)
> 
> Come cry about fictional characters with me over on [tumblr](http://hoechlbutt.tumblr.com/)!


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